Nature of War
by JustOneLittleProblem
Summary: Fleeing the Time War and the terrors of his own mind, the Doctor never thought he'd find a reason to fight. Until he met Rose Tyler.
1. Chapter 1: Endings

The Doctor

The Doctor looked away from Cass's wreck of a body, tears stinging his eyes. Choose, they'd said. Abruptly the Doctor bolted for the door, ignoring the yells of outrage and shock from the Sisters of Karn. He ran on, under a orange sky, discounting his own bloodied, battered body. It didn't hurt nearly as much as the pain in his mind. Spotting the ship that contained his TARDIS, the Doctor began to dig. At last the smudged blue paint lay bare. Fingers leaving crimson smears on the peeling paint, the Doctor opened the doors and dropped inside.

Seeing the large bottle of hypervodka sitting on the end table, the Doctor almost laughed with relief. It would all be over soon. Just a simple drug reaction, and he would be the Doctor no longer. First things first. Pilot the TARDIS into the vortex. It wouldn't be the first TARDIS left there, its owner lost to a never ending war, and certainly not the last.

The Doctor walked around the console, pushing buttons and flipping switches. Within minutes, the TARDIS was in the vortex for the last time. The Doctor pushed away from the console, and crossed to the end table with brisk strides. Enveloped in a shroud of calm, the Doctor snagged the bottle of hypervodka and downed half of it in one go.

Staggering under the onslaught of the alcohol(one of a few forms strong enough to effect his metabolism), the Doctor headed for the medbay. I'm sorry, Cass, he thought. You'll be rid of me soon enough. Too bad you had to die for me to see. The Doctor rummaged through the drawer where that specific, lethal drug was kept. And came up empty.

He growled in impotent rage at the one culprit he knew to be responsible: the TARDIS. Slamming the drawer shut, he stalked out of the room, his simmering fury erasing all but the alcohol in his blood. There were other ways. Ways that didn't rely upon the approval of the TARDIS.

But when he emerged into the hall, it wasn't the hall. The Doctor surveyed the Zero room with growing confusion, only to realise too late what the TARDIS was planning. Throwing himself at the door, he almost made it… only to slam into a solid, roundel-covered wall. The Doctor beat his fists on the wall in a rare display of uncontrolled temper.

In response, the TARDIS hummed angrily at him, asking what the hell he was thinking. He didn't bother with a response, even mentally. Abruptly the hum changed pitch, becoming soothing, persuasive. The TARDIS projected an image of a shiny bronze apparatus bristling with spikes and fitted with a fob watch in the centre. A chameleon arch.

The Doctor shook his head, backing up hastily. Not happening.

The TARDIS hummed, beseeching. Be someone else for a little while, she seemed to say. Forget your problems. It was such a tempting offer, he almost agreed. But then he remembered that he left a trail of blood and destruction behind him, and a human him might be just as bad. The TARDIS hummed, a speculative tone in her hum.

The Doctor mentally glanced up at the TARDIS. "You could do that? Make sure I don't harm anyone else?"

Humming an affirmative, the TARDIS dissolved the wall. Since the Doctor didn't have a traveling companion, this would have to be done a bit differently. Piloting the TARDIS to earth, he landed in London. He wasn't quite sure why, but something seemed to draw him there.

The Doctor got the first flat he could find that would allow him to rent it with the wad of notes he had in his pocket. It just happened to be a large, posh place in central London overlooking a department store. It took him a while longer to get the place fit to live in.

Parking the TARDIS in the spare bedroom of the flat, the Doctor glared at the console. "Eight months till the expiration date. No more. And if you haven't made your point by then, it's time for you to find a new pilot." A cold statement of fact. A plaintive hum came from the TARDIS.

The Doctor took a deep breath, and sat down in the chair that had sprung up near the console. He pulled the chameleon arch over his head. A second later, it activated. The Doctor screamed, thrashing as much as the chameleon arch would allow. He kept on screaming for a long time.

When he stopped, he wasn't the Doctor anymore. Not quite in the way the Doctor wanted, but still. He had forgotten at last. He didn't remember stumbling out of the TARDIS, nor did he remember collapsing on the bed.

Rose Tyler

Rose Marion Tyler was having a rotten day. First Mickey had broken up with her, then one of the mannequins randomly exploded. To top it off, her favourite jumper had met a sad ending at the little fuzzy legs of a family of moths.

She stared out the window of the bus, a cute little crease of pure, unadulterated frustration forming between her eyebrows. The bus juddered rapidly to a halt at Rose's stop, and she dashed off the bus with a muttered 'thank you' to the bus driver. Rose made a face at the rain, and quickly dashed into the cover of her apartment building. As Rose ascended the stairs, the only sounds were her breathing and the flapping of her satchel.

Reaching her apartment, she let herself in without knocking. Jackie was in the kitchen, fixing the ozone layer by cursing at a tray of things that might have once been biscuits. Now they simply resembled charcoal. Rose decided to get her attention before she did something dumb. "Hi Mum!" Rose chirped in her best mock-cheerful voice.

Jackie saw her and immediately went into fussing mode. "I missed you." She enveloped Rose in a smothering hug. Rose raised her eyebrows over her mother's shoulder. Really, she was only gone eight hours. Rose drew back and went to go watch telly.

Later, as she was falling asleep, she had the strangest feeling that things were going to get better soon.


	2. Chapter 2: And Beginnings

John

John Smith woke with a pounding headache and fuzzy tongue. It's almost like a hangover, he thought ironically, except I haven't touched a drop of alcohol since I got home from Iraq.

John sat up, groaning, and realised he was still fully clothed, lying atop a fully-made bed. He remembered last night, and smiled sardonically. John had gotten home late from work, and had stayed up much of the night working on a new experiment.

John stretched, listening to the creaking of abused bone and sinew. He was getting too old for this. Hopping off the bed, he strode briskly into the kitchen. Time for some coffee. Maybe that would cure his headache.

Pausing briefly by the mirror, John wondered why exactly he was wearing this particular outfit. It usually sat at the back of his closet. Drawing a blank, he shrugged.

Five months later

John poked his head out from behind the safety of the kitchen counter. His longish chestnut curls were a singed mess, and his waistcoat bore several burn holes. The reason why?

The coffee machine, which he'd happily modified, had gone up in flames, creating a daisy chain of little explosions all over the kitchen. He sighed, blue eyes wide with residual surprise. Guess he was taking his third trip this week to Henrik's. That wasn't work-related, that is.

Patting flyaway curls into some semblance of order, John hurriedly put out the flaming wreckage. Pulling on a royal blue frock coat, he headed for the door. It was a cold, grey February day outside. The sun struggled weakly like an insect caught in amber. Still, it was beautiful. Off in the distance, he could see the lights of the Eye. Henrik's was right across the street. It was a large, blocky, cream coloured building. And it was his place of employment. John worked there four times a week as a electrician.

He averted his gaze from the line of shop dummies displayed in the window, bearing the latest fashion. For some reason, they unsettled him. Perhaps because sometimes he dreamed about them moving, or maybe because their painted eyes seemed almost to follow him.

John headed past the window and up the steps. Wandering through the front doors, and past the walls of displays that marked the womenswear section, John jabbed the button for the lift. Hands clasped idly behind his back, he waited. It didn't take long. With an asthmatic whoosh, the door to the lift slid open. John stepped inside, noting the spartan interior for the millionth time.

John leaned back against the wall, and thought about not much in particular. It's not that he wasn't happy, it was simply that something was missing. Something he could never quite put his finger on. The lift dinged, and John stepped out, shedding most of the sadness. Some still lingered in his eyes.

A half hour later, John was examining a coffee maker, having discounted the rest of the selection. "Can I help you?" A pleasant female voice said.

John turned around. A slender young woman, probably nineteen or twenty, stood there. Her practised, slightly bored smile became more genuine as she took him in. John shook his head, feeling slightly off kilter. "No, thank you, I'm fine. I was just going to purchase this coffee machine." A pretty face didn't usually have this effect on him.

The girl grinned, gaining a teasing air. "Had a rough day, did you? I'm Rose, by the way." There was no recrimination or shock in her tone. Rose made it sound as if it were completely normal to have soot in your hair and burn holes in your clothes.

John lightly touched the singed ends of his hair. "I had an accident with my previous coffee maker. I'm John."

Rose arched an eyebrow. "What kind of accident leaves burn holes in your clothes and scorch marks in your hair?"

John winced. "It exploded, and sent half of my kitchen up in flames."

Rose laughed, but didn't sound incredulous or suspicious. "That must be some story." She looked at him thoughtfully for a long moment. "Don't you work here as an electrician or something? I think I saw you the other day."

John thought back, wondering if he might have seen her before, too. Then it clicked. He snapped his fingers. "Ah! That's right! Do you normally work in the womenswear section? That's where I was stationed last. Torn wiring in the light fixtures."

Rose nodded. "I normally work in the womenswear department. Cindy was sick, though, so I got transferred over here." Abruptly something smashed behind them, and they both winced.

"Tyler, get over here!" A gruff male voice barked.

Rose sighed theatrically, and shrugged. "Duty calls."

John took a deep breath, suddenly nervous. "Would you like to get dinner with me, or something?"

Rose cocked her head, a considering expression on her face. "Sure." She said. "I'd love to. My shift ends at five, if you want to do something then."

John smiled suddenly. "That sounds perfect." Rose smiled brightly at him, and hurried off. Picking up a coffee machine box, John wondered why exactly he'd asked. As a general rule, he didn't date. But there was something about Rose, something warm and caring, that drew him like a moth to a flame.

Not to mention her wicked, wry sense of humour.

John moved through the checkout line in a distracted daze. He walked all the way home in much the same state. Unlocking his door carefully, John set the coffee machine box on the counter.

Only to be distracted by a dinky little article on the corner of the unread newspaper. As he read, a shiver ran over him. This was wrong. He didn't know how exactly a man could be shot to death without a bullet, but someone had been. Even worse, it felt like a silencing. The man had been raving about monsters and plastic moving. And then he died. Noting the man's name and where he died, John started to fold up the newspaper - and stopped.

The Blaidd Drwg Project. Blaidd Drwg. Bad Wolf. In Iraq, those words had saved his life countless times. It was insane to think that words could follow someone, but these seemed to be managing. Sometimes the words indicated a threat. Other times they indicated something that needed his intervention. John got the feeling that this was the latter. And didn't that just terrify him.

Sighing, he silently rolled up the newspaper and went to read a book until four thirty. But his heart wasn't in it.

Rose

Rose hovered beside the refrigerators, hoping desperately that no more customers would decide to break random appliances. The minutes until her shift ended dripped slowly, like sour honey. Rose thought about John. He'd seemed sweet enough, and was quite a dish, really. Even if he did dress in those odd clothes. Rose shook her head, smiling.

A loud grinding noise echoed through the mostly deserted store. Then a hum, deafening in its intensity. Rose slowly turned toward it. A microwave oven stood ajar, and it was on. Probably cranking out several hecktonnes of lethal radiation each minute. With a yelp, Rose hurriedly yanked the plug out of the wall. She stepped back, puzzled, then totally freaked out, as the hot plate in the centre of the microwave continued to revolve lazily, as if it had not a care in the world.

Rose quickly decided that this was out of her pay grade, and ran to fetch her manager. She burst into the office of Kevin something-or-other, and was amused to find him stuffing a bottle of whiskey under the table.

"What is it?" He growled in annoyance.

"There's a malfunctioning microwave in Appliances! It won't turn off. I tried unplugging it."

Kevin sighed heavily, but heaved himself out of his swivel chair and lumbered after her. Trotting briskly down the halls, Rose was shocked and horrified to see that the microwave had turned off.

She slowly turned around, lifting her chin under Kevin's disgusted gaze. "It was on when I left it." Rose said lamely, feeling like she was staring at the end of her employment. "I swear." She added.

He fumed for a moment, then took a deep breath. "Go home, Tyler. Get some rest, and don't be spouting nonsense about microwaves running on their own."

Rose walked out, trying not to stomp. Or growl menacingly. She knew what she'd seen, impossible as it seemed.


	3. Chapter 3: Trouble in Paradise

John

It was a quarter after four, and John had given up on the rather dry textbook that was doing its fair best to put him to sleep. Instead, he put the kettle on. John happened to glance out the kitchen of his window, only to do a doubletake. Was that Rose, sitting cross legged on the sidewalk, wearing a singularly grumpy expression? Yes, it was. John shook his head in bemusement. Hopefully she wasn't out of a job.

Removing the kettle from the stove, John pulled on his coat, and headed out the door.

When he crossed the street, Rose looked up, and gradually her frown eased. "Hi, John. How did you know I was out here?"

John gestured over his shoulder with a wry smile. "I live right across the street. I saw you sitting on the sidewalk while I was making tea. What happened?"

Rose shrugged, an attempt at a grin failing horribly. "Nothing, really."

John narrowed his eyes at her in mild suspicion, but let it go. He tried to keep the hope from his face. "Would you like to go out to dinner and on a walk with me?"

Rose's lemon-sucking grimace turned into a small, playful smile. "I think I would. Chips alright?"

Chips weren't normally John's favourite, but in this moment, they sounded heavenly. "That sounds marvellous."

He was surprised but pleased when her smaller hand slid into his. Rose tugged him down the street, pointing out her favourite shops and restaurants. John joined her, pointing out a little booksellers where he liked to purchase his books, a grocery store, and a couple of restaurants of different varieties. Rose teased John mercilessly when the owner of the bookshop poked his head out the door to say hello. Eventually they arrived at the little chippy, both winded by their run. They must have made quite the picture, Rose with her windblown hair, and John, with his curls sticking up every which way.

The owner greeted Rose by name, and ushered them to a table by the window. Once seated, John picked up a menu, using it as an opportunity to study Rose. She stared out the window, seemingly lost in thought. Her hair lay over her face, looking much like cornsilk. After a moment, he turned his attention back to the menu, making his selection. John set the menu down gently, and looked at Rose. "I believe the steak and chips sound good."

Rose looked up, eyes distracted. "Huh? Oh, I normally just get chips."

John fancied that he noticed little flecks of gold in the chocolate brown of her irises. After a few minutes, someone came over and took their order. For the first few minutes, they ate in companionable silence. Then Rose hesitantly broke the silence. "What else do you like to do? Sometimes I draw."

John smiled. "I work on electronics, try to improve them. Sometimes I manage, and I sell the patents. Other times things explode." He gestured wryly to his crisped hair. "I write, too. I'll never be able to publish, but it's a fun hobby."

Rose tilted her head, a glimmer of curiosity in her eyes. "Why not?"

It was an old frustration, one that he'd long grown to accept. "They say my plots are too cluttered, that too many ideas are trying to come through. And honestly, I don't blame them."

Rose ate a steadily cooling chip. "I'm sorry." She patted his hand where it lay on the linen tablecloth. John found himself oddly touched by the gesture.

The rest of the meal passed in a whirlwind of laughter and conversation. John learned that Rose just had her nineteenth birthday, and that she'd had two previous boyfriends, neither of whom were particularly pleasant. Rose learned that he had been a soldier, and that he had strange dreams every night about other worlds. He did not tell her about Bad Wolf, or the strange death. She did not tell him about the incident with the free range microwave oven. John paid the bill, and they left the restaurant.

The sky had darkened to an inky indigo sparsely peppered with stars. They stopped next to a dry fountain, and they both craned their necks to look at the sky. "It's beautiful." Rose breathed.

"It is." But John was thinking of another time and place; one where he'd been a much darker, more desperate man. That man used to stand in the desert and look up at those same stars, and remember why he was fighting.

Abruptly the shrill wailing of a cell phone shattered the moment. Rose heaved an exasperated sigh, and rooted around in the pocket of her jeans. John didn't blame her one bit; he felt pretty annoyed himself. Yanking out her phone, Rose looked at the caller ID. She smiled apologetically at John. "Sorry, but I've got to take this. It's my mum."

Rose hit a button, and put the phone to her ear. "Yes, I'm quite aware I'm late."

Angry muttering on the other end of the line. "I had a date. And no, it's too early for you to meet him. It's only the first date."

The mutters sounded slightly placated this time. "The burners on the stove melted, you say? I'll be right home." Rose sighed, and hit the end button. She glanced up at John. "I'm really sorry. I gotta go." Rose stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. Then she patted her pockets. "Do you have a pen and paper? I want to give you my phone number."

John shook his head. "I have a permanent marker, but no paper."

Rose grinned slyly. "That'll do. Give it here, and hold out your hand." John gave her the marker, then stared, transfixed, as she slowly wrote out her number on the palm of his hand. Wearing a cheeky grin, Rose was pretending to focus on her writing, but he could see her eyes flicking up to gauge his reaction. As wrapped up in each other as they were, neither one noticed the slightly darker shadow watching them from amongst the shadows.


	4. Chapter 4

Rose

Gently nudging the door shut with her foot, Rose hung her satchel on the hook. Her mother was in the kitchen, staring with great woe at the charred, mangled remains of what was once a functional stove.

Rose walked in a slow half circle around the bubbling, blackened pile of metal with a growing sense of alarm. "Mum, that wasn't you. There is no way that was you."

Jackie opened her mouth, closed it, and finally spoke in a rather strangled voice. "I'm telling you, that thing just turned on by itself!"

Rose snorted, amused despite herself. "Seems to be going around."

"WHAT?!"

Rose was about to answer, but then her phone rang. Rose fished it out of her pocket, and checked the caller ID. It wasn't anyone that she knew. Rose answered anyway, guessing who it might be. "Rose Tyler speaking."

John's pleasant tones slid through the speaker. "Hello, Rose. Just wanted to make sure you got home safely."

Rose could feel a stupid, sappy grin spreading across her face. "I did." She sobered, feeling uneasy again. "John, what would your professional opinion be if an oven turned on by itself and burned hot enough to melt solid steel into a puddle of goo?"

This time John's voice no longer had his normal easy confidence. "Rose, steel melts at fourteen hundred degrees. The maximum temperature of your average oven is a little over two hundred sixty degrees. In order to go kamikaze and melt itself, your oven would have to bypass several safeguards. I would be very concerned. Not to mention the difficulty involved in cleaning up a globule of congealed metal that is probably partly welded to your floor. You're lucky it didn't burn down the entire building. You say it turned on on it's own?"

Rose transferred the phone to her other ear, sighing. "Apparently it did." She slanted a glance at Jackie, who was glaring at her.

John's tone gained extra shadings of interest. "Could be an electrical issue. Mind if I come take a look?"

Rose smiled. "Be my guest. Literally." Rose rattled off the address and apartment number. She said goodbye and hung up.

John

He stood looking up at the pale yellow lights of Rose's apartment building. Something bizarre was happening, and he had to get to the bottom of it. After all, Bad Wolf was back. The frosty grass crunched under his ankle boots as John made a beeline for the staircase at one side of the blocky concrete building. The stairwell seemed to go on forever. Why, he wondered, did this all start around the time he met Rose?

Abruptly, John seemed to blink, and he was standing in front of Rose's door. He raised his hand to knock, and the door was yanked open impatiently by a middle aged blonde woman who bore a striking family resemblance to Rose. Well. Apparently he was expected. Rose's mother fluffed her hair flirtatiously. "So you're John."

John was very unsure about how exactly to respond to this new menace. "Uhh."

Thankfully, Rose came to his rescue by stepping around her mother. "Mum, leave him alone." She stepped back, taking a still-grumbling Jackie with her. John gratefully stepped into the cramped foyer, shucking his frock coat and hanging it on a hook. It looked laughably out of place next to Rose's pink hoodie.

Rose smiled warmly at him. "Hey you."

John grinned back, feeling like he could have stayed there all day. "Hey yourself." There was something about Rose that made him feel like he'd known her forever. With an effort, John brought his thoughts back where they belonged. "Would you like to show me the mystery of the month?"

Rose turned around, and started picking her way out of the foyer. "It mostly resembles a great big chunk of metal now."

"Descriptive."

Rose's only response was to stick her tongue out at him. They entered the kitchen, and a chill ran up John's spine. Little prickles of wrongness seeded themselves in his brain. Crouching down, John brushed his fingers lightly against the lumpy surface of of the surprisingly cool metal. How exactly it hadn't burned down the building, John was not certain. No evidence remained that this had once been an oven.

Even more strange, lines of plastic threaded themselves through the metal in bumpy asynchrony. John couldn't repress a shiver as the parallel became clear. Neurons. John stood up, suddenly certain of something.

He faced the two expectant women with a small, apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, it's unlikely to happen again, but that's all I can promise you. This wasn't exactly covered by my training."

Jackie just crossed her arms and huffed in annoyance, but Rose narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. "Kinda like a microwave that turns on by itself and stays on, even when you unplug it?"

John's head snapped up. "Where was this?"

Rose shrugged, giving him a smile touched with irritation. "At Henrik's today. My manager thinks I'm bonkers."

Ah. So that's why Rose was sent home today. John moved forward and pressed a light kiss to Rose's cheek. "I probably ought to go. It's getting late. Would you like to watch a movie on Friday?"

Rose smiled, and bumped him with her shoulder. "Sure. I'd love to." She tapped her phone. "Call you later."

John shook Jackie's hand. "It was nice meeting you, Jackie."

He shrugged back into his coat. A few minutes later, he and Rose were standing under the night sky once again. As John watched the stars, he could feel Rose watching him. "What do you really think caused it? You seemed to be holding back in there."

John gazed down at Rose, and shrugged. "It's totally bonkers, but…"

Rose lightly squeezed his hand. "But?"

John took a deep breath. It really did sound insane. "I think someone is controlling plastic somehow. You saw how there were thin veins of plastic spread throughout the metal. Almost like neurons."

The acceptance in her eyes surprised him. "Okay." They stood, hand in hand, for a while longer.

John wandered through his darkened flat, feeling oddly uneasy. A small, oily voice whispered Choose. You need to choose. John whirled around, head whipping from side to side as he searched for the source of the voice.

His gaze fell on the silver fob watch that his father had given him. John picked it up. The watch remained stubbornly silent. On impulse, he tried to open it. It was jammed. Just as he was about to set it down and turn away, it grew scalding hot. A tendril of golden fire snaked out of it, sinking into John's skin. John shook his head, puzzled.

That night, he dreamed of a terrible War raging across entire universes. He woke up in a cold sweat with tears running down his face.


	5. Chapter 5: We All Fall Down

Rose

Curled up on the couch next to John, Rose was surrounded by a warm glow of contentment. The strange incident with the oven had drifted into the back of her mind, and was mostly forgotten. Rose watched idly as John flipped through the channels. But when it came to the local news channel, Rose's heart clenched in terror.

She shot to her feet, the popcorn bowl clattering unnoticed to her feet. With a whimper of anguish, she bolted out the front door. Rose didn't hear John shouting her name, or running after her.

And in the empty living room where uneaten popcorn littered the floor, a middle aged reporter droned on. "A deadly blaze has broken out at the Powell Estates. Over a dozen are reported dead already."

John

Rarely ever had he felt such terror. Rose didn't even seem to hear him. She simply yanked open the door of the first taxi she saw, ignoring the irate protests of the driver. John climbed in beside her, handing a twenty pound note to the driver. "To Powell Estates, please."

He wrapped an arm around Rose as the taxi started to move. She turned into him, burying her face in his shoulder, back heaving with silent sobs. After a second, she raised her head. "Do you think she's dead?"

John shook his head. "No, I don't. From what I could see, I think it was the building behind yours."

Rose exhaled and slumped in relief. "I don't know what I'd do without her. Most of the time, she's an unmitigated pain, but she's my mother and I love her." Rose admitted.

John smiled ever so slightly. "I don't have any contact with my parents, and I still love them. Usually, it's very hard to erase that love entirely. No matter what you or they do, say, or think, a spark usually remains. No matter how much you wish it wouldn't." They sat in silence for a few minutes, until the taxi rolled to a halt.

John offered Rose a hand. "Shall we?" Rose nodded, and took it. Helping her out of the car, they both stepped into the dusky evening light.

Black smoke smudged the sky in broad strokes, and a fragmented police barricade barely held back crowds of crying, screaming people. The building, or rather what remained of it, was a blackened nub barely a foot tall. The brooding hulks of fire trucks and other emergency vehicles sat nearby.

A beleaguered officer turned to glare halfheartedly at them as they approached. Hoping to God that it actually worked, instead of simply picking up on the person's desires.

Yesterday, when he'd shown it to a particularly tired Rose, it had simply projected an image of her curled up in bed, embarrassing them both. It was one of his newer inventions, one he'd termed psychic paper.

Aiming the billfold at the officer, John focused hard on what he wanted him to see. "John Smith, I'm with Scotland Yard."

The officer looked somewhat sceptical, but soon started nodding. "Nice attire." He muttered under his breath.

Slightly louder, he added, "Police Constable Tom Munro. What do you need to know?"

John ticked off the points of interest on his long fingers. "First of all, what made it go up? Were there any indications that arson caused it?"

Munro scowled. "That's the strange thing. The evidence indicates that the fire started identically in six different apartments simultaneously. It appears that six clothes dryers started burning at the same time. No traces of accelerant. The really bizarre thing? The fire burned at exactly fourteen hundred fifty degrees. Just hot enough to melt steel, and to burn everything else into a pile of ashes. We're lucky we got anyone out at all."

John sucked in a breath, feeling thoughtful. He slanted a glance at Rose. "That sounds like arson, all right. But let me ask you this. What kind of fire, even a natural one, burns so hot and in such a controlled, destructive manner, with no accelerant?"

Munro looked grave. "None that I've ever heard of. Maybe it's some sort of newfangled technique designed by the crooks?"

John nodded encouragingly. "It's certainly possible. Is there anything else relevant?"

The constable shook his head. "I don't think so."

John inclined his head politely. "Then we'll be on our way. Thank you for your help." He and Rose turned to walk away.

When they were a safe distance away, Rose leaned in close. "I can't believe that you just impersonated a police officer." She said quietly and a little incredulously.

"I can't believe I did, either." John murmured.

John glanced down at Rose where she practically pressed into his side. And recoiled. Displayed in the air around her, he could see every possibility of her life, splaying out like a golden spiderweb. From birth to death, past and future, could-have-beens, might-well-be-s and all shades of possibility.

In some timelines, she died young. In others, he did. In one thread, she died old and bitter, dreaming about what might have been. John grasped at the other threads, hope in his heart. His heart sank. War, impossible war, was in Rose's future.

And so was he, but not like this. Didn't it just suck to realise your entire existence was a smokescreen for someone else? John let out a bitter laugh.

Rose looked up at him, concern writ plain on her features. "Are you all right?"

John forced a smile and made himself start walking again. "I'm fine." He'd treasure the time he had with Rose.

While he was still himself.

Rose

They took another cab back to John's flat, sitting in silence. John, for his part, just gazed out the window, his hand still intertwined with hers. Rose watched him, wondering what exactly he'd seen when he'd looked at her with glassy eyes. It was probably a PTSD attack, but what caused it she couldn't tell. Maybe the smoke?

She squeezed his hand, and John focused on her, smiling. It was a slightly more genuine smile, complete with eye crinkles, so Rose felt slightly less worried. Rose pursed her lips thoughtfully. " I mean, what was that billfold thingy?"

Grinning, John looked very pleased with himself. "Psychic paper. Lets you mentally project an image onto it. I invented it myself. Remember the piece of paper I showed you yesterday? That was it, in the early stages."

Rose snorted, not passing up an opportunity to tease him. "It showed an image of me curled up in bed. Who was picturing that?"

John blushed, doubtless too polite to say that he would've been picturing something very different. "Uh. Must've been you."

Rose grinned cheekily at him, and John's eyes widened as he realised she'd been teasing him. They gazed at each other, utterly transfixed, slowly leaning toward each other.

Until the loud voice of the cab driver made them spring apart. "Are you getting out or not? I don't have all day."

They got out in a hurry.

John

A copy of _the Time Machine_ lay open in John's lap as he flipped through it. He was trying to read it, but his head hurt so much. It was like someone was driving an iron stake into his skull. He glanced up at where Rose paced, talking on the phone with Jackie.

Glanced down again at the book, saw its pages fluttering as it tumbled to the floor. Felt the panic accompanying the memory. John shook his head woozily, and stood on shaky legs to return the book to the shelf.

Another memory hit him with the force of a blow. The burn of alcohol sliding down his throat. The hot, fierce joy of self-destruction. And three words, ones thought with the ring of finality. _Doctor no longer._

John braced himself on the bookshelf, and rubbed his eyes. At least now he knew the name of his other self. Doctor. Doctor what?

He realised that Rose was quiet, and glanced over his shoulder. Rose had hung up, and was slipping the cell phone into her pocket. John tried to shake the ghosts from his eyes. Not entirely certain if he'd succeeded, John grinned back at Rose. Despite all he was going through, John couldn't help but feel like he was coming home every time he looked at her or touched her.

Then Rose's grin acquired a wicked edge, and John knew he was in for it. Laughing, Rose leapt at him, tackling him to the ground. They fell in a tangle of limbs, John making sure that Rose was not injured in the fall. Rose disentangled herself slightly, grinning like a loon. "Let's see if you're ticklish."

She lightly brushed a hand over John's side. He shivered involuntarily. Rose's grin widened. "Yep. Definitely ticklish."

Rose launched a full-on tickle attack that left them both laughing helplessly and ended only when John retaliated with tickling of his own. Lying in a tangled heap, they both still let out the occasional helpless giggle.

After a few minutes, John raised his head to look at Rose. "Rose, I'd been meaning to tell you. I've been investigating a murder related to the fire, the microwave and your stove melting."

There was a vivacious sparkle in her eyes that warmed his heart as she looked at him. "And by investigating… you mean poking around with that psychic paper you created."

John didn't take offence. She was teasing, and besides, she really did have a point. "Guilty as charged."

She smiled. "Hopefully not." Rose joked. Then her eyes grew serious. "Jus' be careful, okay? I want you safe." She shivered. "I don't know why, and I don't know how, but there are things out there that shouldn't exist. Things that humans just aren't meant to fight."

John looked her in the eye, trying to make a promise that he knew he couldn't keep. "I'll try."

Rose smiled wanly, and tentatively brushed her lips over his.


	6. Chapter 6: Ghost in the Machine

Six weeks later

Rose

They sat huddled on the fountain outside Henrik's, whispering back and forth. "Well, what the hell do we do now?"

She could both see and feel John shrug. "I think the only thing we can do is wait. Face it, we have limited resources. We've got the psychic paper, and that's almost it." John sounded sad and frustrated.

Rose felt much the same way, but managed to muster a smile. "We've got you. And that's something they may not have."

John snorted. "May not." But then he began to smile. And it was a real smile. Rose glanced down at her watch. Three minutes till the end of her break.

Rose glanced up at John, and their eyes met. "Sorry. But my break is almost over." The words she'd been wanting to say hovered on her lips, as they had been for a week. Longer, if she was honest with herself. But she couldn't quite say them, not yet.

John grinned at her, and as they both stood, pulled her into a passionate kiss that made a nearby grandmother tut in disapproval.

When they broke apart, Rose laughed and gave John a playful push. "You dork! It's not forever, I'll be seeing you after work."

John winked at her. "I know." Rose smiled at him, and disappeared into Henrik's.

John

The minutes ticked slowly past. It was almost as if he could sense the passing of each and every one of them. John supposed that that wouldn't be so odd, considering what else he could do. Not a moment too soon, five o'clock came. John stowed his toolkit in the bottom of his locker, clocked out, and tried not to be too obvious about the happy spring to his step as he left.

Rose's face lit up when she saw him, and she dashed over, leaving Shireen in the dust with a disgusted look on her face. "Hey."

John smiled softly at her. "Hello."

Rose fell into step next to him, waving goodbye to Shireen and Margo. All of a sudden, a creaking noise made John's head whip around. A dummy stood in an unnatural pose, looking perfectly innocent. He shivered slightly.

Rose looked at him, an expression of unease mirroring his own on her face. "Did that thing just move?"

Feeling hemmed in by impossible choices, John did the only thing he thought he could. "I don't know." He lied.

Rose nodded, the slightest glimmer of suspicion in her eyes. They hurried out of Henrik's and across the street to John's apartment. As John turned on The Fifth Element, he could hear Rose hanging up her jacket and kicking off her shoes. She padded over, and plopped down on the couch next to him.

Rose causally picked up the movie case. "The Fifth Element." She read aloud. "An outrageously styled tale of good and evil set in an unbelievable twenty third century sci-fi world." Rose smirked. "Sounds like my kind of thing."

Ultimately, they never figured out whether or not it was Rose's kind of movie, because five minutes into it, Rose had crawled onto his lap and was kissing him. Breathing hard, he kissed her back. Rose abruptly grabbed him by the lapels of his wing collared shirt, and pushed him down onto the sofa, none too gently.

There wasn't too much thought after that.

John woke slowly. A warm body curled into his, skin to skin. Rose, John remembered. Her hair fanned out over his arm. Rose shivered, and pressed herself closer. John moved down to the foot of the couch, and scooted back up, dragging the fuzzy throw blanket with him. Completely content, John let sleep wash over him.

The second time John woke, he woke to the sound of hell outside. Gunshots, terrified screams. Metal crunching, glass breaking. John's brain served up a horrible accompaniment of images to go with it. Sometimes they were familiar, and other times they really weren't.

Gently rolling Rose off of him, he stared down at her in amusement. When she'd said she could sleep through the apocalypse, he hadn't believed she'd meant it literally.

John dressed swiftly. Rose would be safe here. And if she weren't, she wouldn't be safe anywhere in London.

Grabbing his psychic paper, John bolted out the door and into hell. The night sky hadn't yet lightened to grey, but was lit up with bursts of light and searchlights. In and around Henrik's, full scale war raged. But this was no ordinary battle. Bewildered but angry police officers were pitted against a horde of animated shop dummies. The dummies were winning.

Dummies boiled out of Henrik's in overwhelming waves, pinning down the few officers left standing. John could see several uniformed bodies lying in pitiful heaps. All of this he took in in a few seconds that seemed to stretch on forever. Mind made up, John dashed down the stairs, and zigzagged across the battlefield. He skidded to a halt next to the nearest police officer.

The strobe of a spotlight briefly lit up the sky, and John forced back a cry of surprise. It was Munro. "It's you!"

Munro stopped aiming at the nearest dummy and gaped at him. "What are you doing here?"

This distraction turned out to be fatal. Before John could answer, or call a warning, or even register why the brutal chiming noise sounded familiar, a plastic bullet tore through Munro's chest at a little under the speed of sound. John dropped to his knees beside the other man, watching in numb disbelief as the life faded from Munro's eyes. That numbness turned rapidly to seething, white-hot rage. John slowly got to his feet, every movement measured and deliberate.

Only to come face to face with a plastic killer. An Auton, some small part of his brain said. John had a split second to stare at the Auton, before its hand split with a rough chime, revealing the barrel of a gun.

John ran, but not fast enough. A shot rang out, and despite his zigzagging flight, John felt a searing pinpoint of agony erupt in his thigh. Femoral artery's been hit, some small part of him noted coolly.

At that point, one thought overwhelmed all the others: get to the pocket watch. More bullets whizzed by on all sides, but thankfully none hit home.

Rose

The first thing Rose noticed was the absence of a warm body curled up beside her. Then she realised that she was hearing gunfire. Putting two and two together, Rose was suddenly terrified.

Clutching the throw blanket tight, as if it were the only thing left of John, Rose ran for the kitchen window at a dead sprint. Peering out, she saw a hellish scene. Mangled cars and rag-doll-esque bodies littered the street in twisted, bloody patterns. Rose breathed a fervent sigh of relief when she realised none of the bodies bore John's distinctive style of clothing. Her eye fell on a crimson stroke of blood trailing all the way back to the apartment stairs, and her heart spasmed convulsively.

Just then, the door opened.

John

By the time John reached the base of the stairs, the Autons had stopped firing. His vision blurred. John pulled himself up arm over arm.

Step. Step. Step. Everything hurt. Even breathing.

Eventually, though, he did reach the apartment, opening the door and pausing to wheeze for breath.

He stepped into the apartment, and Rose was there. Even naked, clutching a fuzzy green throw blanket, and crying her eyes out, she was stunning. Rose saw him, and all but tackled him in a hug. "I thought I'd lost you, but then-" She took a deep breath. "I love you."

John looked her in the eyes, daring her to see what he felt there. "I love you too. No matter what. Remember that."

Rose's confusion changed to panic as John gasped in pain and sank to the ground, immediately struggling to his feet. "You've been shot!"

John, who had hauled himself over to the shelf, and picked up the fob watch, looked at her, an insane brew of emotions bubbling up inside of him.

"I'm sorry."

John's last thought was that dying should hurt a lot more, and his last emotion was love. An emotion that imprinted itself on the hearts of the Doctor.


	7. Chapter 7: A Single Step

A Single Step

The Doctor

Watching as golden flame flowed into his fingers in a bizarre waterfall, the Doctor smiled. It was good to be back. He did a mental double take. Was it really? How interesting. Two hearts, both in working order. Time Lord brain, fully functional.

And a proliferation of new memories. Damn it, the Doctor thought. That fool of a half-incarnation had gone and fallen in love. The tricky bit about a chameleon arch was that in terms of of emotion, they acted like a true incarnation. In other words, John Smith had given the Doctor one more tether to life. The golden fire stopped, and the Doctor slipped the now-defunct fob watch into his pocket.

He glanced up, to meet Rose's gaze, which held equal parts horror and fascination. "John?"

The Doctor didn't say anything, just held her gaze, letting her see the answer for herself. It _hurt_ to know that she'd likely abandon him once she understood the truth.

Rose

Meeting his gaze steadily, Rose was horrified to see the differences piling up. Sure, John's mischief and serenity were there, but there was also a torn and bloody pain, and something Rose could only describe as starlight. It was as if someone had taken John, and dumped a millennium of age, pain and sorrow on him. Unable to take it any longer, Rose grabbed her clothes and bit out one word. "Explain."

While Rose dressed, whoever that was(she was unable to think of him as John) launched into a explanation. "I'm the Doctor."

For just one second, the anger abated, and they fell into familiar patterns. "Just the Doctor?"

He grinned. "Just the Doctor."

Rose grinned a tongue-touched grin. "What, is that supposed to sound impressive or something?"

The Doctor didn't look offended, just sad. "It's a name I chose a long time ago to signify a desire to help people. I haven't done much helping lately, though. More like wholesale destruction. And a young girl died because of me." His face was utterly, completely blank, but were those tears in his eyes?

Rose struggled to maintain her anger. If she didn't, she would break down and cry, and she didn't want that. "I still don't understand how you went from being John to being you. Was it that gold stuff?"

The Doctor looked faintly proud. "Yes, Rose, it was. That fob watch was part of a chameleon arch, a device that allows me to escape harm by rewriting my biology, in this case, into a human. I locked my memories and biodata into the pocket watch, developing John as an personality fragment. So John is me, and I am him."

Rose raised an eyebrow, more curious than angry now. "By that you mean you're not human?"

The Doctor's mouth twitched, perhaps with amusement. "I'm a Time Lord."

Rose's lips quirked slightly. "Because that is not at all pompous."

The Doctor threw his head back, laughing. When he looked at her again, his eyes danced with familiar mischief. And it hurt. "Cursed with pomposity and bitchiness. What a combination."

Abruptly it hit her. John was gone, had never existed in the first place. How did you grieve for someone who had never lived at all? Rose sank down in a kitchen chair and began to cry.

The Doctor

When Rose started to cry, the Doctor reacted on instinct honed by weeks of spending time with her. Scooping her up, he retreated to the couch. Rose's tears continued unabated, but she turned her face into his shoulder.

As they sky lightened to a dusky grey, the Doctor petted Rose's hair and stared out the window, into the smudges of smoke. His fault. The TARDIS had lied. He'd left a trail of destruction, intentionally or not. Now innocent people were dead. Like a stupid, bumbling puppy, his human self had left blood and carnage everywhere.

Six minutes and twenty two seconds later, Rose raised her head, eyes reddened. But there was hard resolve in her expression. She lifted her chin. "How do we stop those things? I don't want anyone else to die."

The Doctor felt a rush of love for her, and knew he was doomed. Completely, gloriously doomed. Rose was so willing to risk her life, even with no hope of reward. The Doctor met her remarkably steady gaze. "There's a transmitter, probably at Henrik's. We need to disable it."

Rose sniffed, and nodded. "How?"

The Doctor patted her hand, where it was fisted in his coat. "I'm sorry, but I'll have to blow it up. No one but Autons will be injured, if it's any consolation."

Rose remained gazing at him with remarkable calm. Seeing how calm she seemed at the prospect of having her place of employment blown to smithereens, the Doctor started having a very uneasy feeling. Pushing it down, the Doctor extended a hand to help Rose to her feet. "Shall we? The Nestenes get closer to their endgame every minute."

Rose nodded and slid off his lap. The Doctor got to his feet, and headed for the bedroom, Rose trailing behind. Pulling a TARDIS key from one of the bookshelves, he unlocked the invisible TARDIS. Rose entered the room just as the TARDIS rippled into view, a look of confusion on her face. "What ar-"

Her sentence came to a screeching halt as she noticed the TARDIS. He jaw dropped open. The Doctor watched with the familiar amusement as she quickly snapped her jaw shut, and looked the police box-shaped ship up and down. Then she put her hands on her hips. "You never told me your ship was a police box! What else can it do?"

The last part was said as she leaned forward to peer inside. A sharp inhalation marked her realisation that the TARDIS was bigger on the inside. The Doctor grinned wryly as Rose disappeared into the TARDIS. He followed at a more leisurely pace.

At least the TARDIS would be getting the attention she deserved. With a violent mental shove, he pushed that thought away. Rose would stay here. She wouldn't, couldn't, travel with him.

But then an insidious little thought worked its way into the corner of his mind, plying seductive whispers. If the flotsam of the Time War is already here, then wouldn't Rose be safer in the eye of the storm? With an almighty battle raging in his heart, the Doctor watched Rose stroking the console. She laughed in delight as the buttons lit up under her touch.

She turned to the Doctor, a happily thoughtful look on her face. "Is it intelligent or something? It keeps responding."

The hum of the TARDIS pitched up. She was pleased.

The Doctor smiled slightly. "She's alive, actually. She's also telepathic and sentient. She likes you."

Rose shook her head woozily. She casually pointed a finger at him. "That may not be the weirdest thing I've seen or heard this week, but it's definitely up there." She petted the console again, much to the delight of the TARDIS. Rose glanced over at the Doctor. "Well? Are we going to blow up my job or not?" The Doctor shook himself loose from his thoughts and went to go get the smart explosives.

Rose

She leaned over the console, an excited grin spreading across her face. The Doctor smiled back at her, and flipped a switch. "Ready for this? Dematerialisation can be a bit bumpy."

The console room lurched to the side, nearly knocking Rose off her feet, and she smirked. "Ya think?" She called back.

The Doctor continued to walk around the console, pressing buttons and working levers. The TARDIS bucked and heaved again, and Rose belatedly grabbed the console. The Doctor, who was on his third or fourth circuit of the console, took her shoulders, steadying her. "Easy there."

The room tilted crazily once more, and settled with one final shudder. The sensation of something living looking over her shoulder faded away with a satisfied hum, and the console room was once more simply a very strange room. Rose shook her head, amused. "Seven weeks ago, this would have been the strangest thing ever to happen to me, but since meeting you…"

She let her sentence trail off. Only to notice the very strange look on the Doctor's face. Feeling distinctly unsettled by the sheer emotion in that look, Rose made for the doors and poked her head outside. They were in the basement of Henrik's, near the storage rooms. She opened the door, and stepped out into a haze of smoke.

She went to take another step, and instantly recoiled as her foot hit something soft and fleshy. Biting back a scream, Rose let out a little whimper instead as she realised exactly what she'd stepped on. The Doctor was instantly beside her. On instinct, she buried her face in the soft velvet of his coat. It was so horrible. There was only one person who was due to stay late that day. Wilson, the CEO. "He was set to retire."

The Doctor's arms went around her, and he patted her back. "I'm so sorry, Rose. You never should have seen that." Rose pulled back slightly, and levelled a hard stare on the Doctor. "Because you think I can't handle it?"

The Doctor sighed, and his eyes showed no anger, only sadness. "Because though they exist, no one should have to come face to face with war and death."

Rose smiled weakly. "Let's go lay those explosives."

The Doctor

They laid the charges all right. On the way back from the roof, however, they were attacked by a horde of Autons, all intent on killing them in various horrible manners. Never one to be deterred, he pulled out his sonic screwdriver and set to work.

Later, as they ran pell mell the other direction, Rose broke off muttering curses under her breath to snark at him. "Congratulations! You managed to deactivate one dummy. Would you like a bloody round of applause?"

The Doctor grinned as he grabbed Rose's hand, pulling her into the lift. "I will admit that I need work. Especially after spending seven-and-a-half months as a human."

Rose winced.

The Doctor realised that that might not be the most flattering thing to say to a human. Oops. He was getting rustier than a Dalek in a waterfall.

At that moment, a plastic arm swung down hard, nearly clipping Rose. The Doctor grabbed it, and, after a drawn out battle, yanked the arm clear off. He pivoted around to face Rose, wearing a bright grin. "Completely armless, wouldn't you say?"

Rose grinned like a loon. "Oh, I wouldn't say completely. It still has the other arm."

Smirking, the Doctor hit the lift button. The lift whirring into gear, steadily descending. The Doctor couldn't help but feel lighter than he had in a long time. He'd found a reason to keep fighting. Too bad he'd likely never see her again after this was over.

The lift door slid open with a wheeze and a spritz of hydraulic fluid. Apparently it had taken a beating. Cautiously, they stepped out into the smoke filled basement. Standing directly in front of the TARDIS, the Doctor pulled out the detonator and pressed a button. Everything seemed to slow down. The door to the stairs clanged open, releasing a virtual flood of Autons. And the building started to shake violently. The Doctor didn't wait around. He dragged a transfixed Rose into the TARDIS right as a wall of billowing orange flames raced toward them.

Releasing Rose, he headed to the console. He pressed a button, and the TARDIS dematerialised. When the Doctor finished his walk around the console, he looked up to see Rose curled up in his armchair, squinting at a copy of the Star Beast. He smiled fondly.

Rose looked up, looking a bit startled. Then she settled down. She peered at him curiously. "Why do you have a fishpond in your front room?"

That caught the Doctor off guard. No one else had asked about the fishpond. "Because the TARDIS liked the idea."

Rose nodded, lips pursed thoughtfully. "Your ship is called the TARDIS. Where'd you get the fish?"

The Doctor blinked at the abrupt reversal of subject, then smiled. "I hear petsmart has nice koi fish this time of year."

Rose snorted. "All of the universe, and you go to an American superstore."

He would have taken offence, but there was a warm, teasing air to her demeanour. "All of Time and space, actually."

Rose blinked. "You're telling me it's a time machine?"

The TARDIS chose that moment to judder to a halt. Rose glanced up, still picking at a loose thread on her jumper. "Where are we?"

The Doctor's face was a blank mask, the emotions seething inside of him anything but. "Your flat."

Rose's face hardened as she seemed to catch on. "You are not dragging me back to that after showing me everything that's out there!"

The Doctor raked his hands through his hair in frustration. "Endless hell is what's out there! People slaughtered by the billions, entire solar systems burning! That is what you want to go back to!"

Rose waved a hand in the air, changing tactics. "Don't you think I'd be safer with you? If the War is coming to earth, then nowhere is truly safe."

Anger and desperation made his tongue cruel. "So that's why you want to stay with me. Selfishness."

Rose stood up and stalked toward him with fury in every line of her body. "I don't want to be safe! I want to be with you. Saving people, stopping the War." Her voice softened on the last sentences until it was barely a murmur.

The Doctor realised just how close their faces were; less than a foot apart. He could smell pheromones on her. He tried one last time, though he could feel himself giving in. "I could wipe your memories, drop you and Jackie someplace safe."

Rose ran a hand through her hair, grimaced when it snagged. She looked at the Doctor, eyes serious. "And leave me like your human self, constantly dreaming of something I can't remember, wishing for something that I'll never recall? No, Doctor. We're going out there to pack, not to leave me off."

Rose

They stepped out onto the scratchy, threadbare carpet. Jackie was sitting on the couch not three feet from them, chin sunk onto her chest. Rose called out a cheerful greeting to her mother, but Jackie barely responded. She just flashed a poison-sweet smile at Rose. "R-r-rose."

Then she moved into the kitchen with fluid grace quite unlike her normal shuffling movements. The Doctor moved closer to Rose, and whispered urgently. "Rose, that is not your mother. It appears the Nestenes made a facsimile of her. Don't worry, they likely kept her alive."

Rose leaned in closer. "What do we do now?"

"Wait for her to try to kill us."

They didn't have to wait long, because fake-Jackie crashed through the wall in a shower of plaster, and struck the Doctor upside the head.


	8. Chapter 8: A Good Man Goes to War

The Doctor

The blow would have killed a human; it even knocked the Doctor for a loop. Forty six seconds later, he levered himself off the floor, wiping a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth.

His hearts nearly stopped when he looked up. Rose was engaged in a fluid, beautiful, _deadly_ dance with the facsimile, neatly avoiding some blows and fending off others with only the protection of a flimsy steak knife. He knew she was a gymnast, but he never knew that she was this good.

In an instant, the Doctor was up off the carpet and running. He plowed into the Auton, and a second later, his boot was planted in its plasticky chest, and his arms were wrapped around its neck in a stranglehold. The facsimile fought mightily, but the Doctor had the advantage.

With a final, splitting pop, fake Jackie's head came clean off. The Doctor tucked the head under his arm, right as Rose dodged a blow from the headless thing. Rose winced visibly as the Auton's hand descended, and smashed the wooden countertop into kindling. Rose and the Doctor ran back into the TARDIS as the headless monstrosity continued to destroy the tiny kitchen.

Rose leaned against the console with a groan. "Mum is going to kill us for the kitchen."

The Doctor looked somber. "At least she is alive to do so. Many aren't." Guilt washed over him again at the thought of all the people lying dead in the streets. Rose apparently felt the same way, because she looked down.

After a second, she glanced up again. "What do we do now?"

But the Doctor was already wiring the head into the console. "If I can trace the signal… It'll lead me straight to the Nestene Consciousness, which is the central intelligence." A second later, he flipped a switch, and the TARDIS quaked as it began to dematerialise. The trip was shorter and considerably bumpier this time.

Rose ran into the Doctor twice, and hit one of the bell-shaped support struts and third time. The Doctor held onto her waist with one arm, and the console with his other hand. It wasn't because he was comforted by the contours of her body. Not at all.

Gradually the TARDIS settled with a satisfied hum. Rose gently unwound his arm from around her waist, but not before flashing him a teasing grin. She headed for the door, but not before the Doctor took her shoulder and gently spun her around. "Rose, you need to be careful and stay with me, okay? It's not going to be a sight for sore eyes out there."

Rose nodded, teasing grin gone like it had never been. "I will. You just be careful, too, Doctor. Okay?"

Reluctantly, he nodded. Then he grabbed a vial of blue liquid from under the console. He dangled it in front of Rose's nose. "This liquid is called antiplastic. It'll destabilise any type of living plastic it comes into contact with, including the Nestene Consciousness. I plan to use it as the stick to my carrot, to encourage them to negotiate. If not…" The Doctor knew his face had gone terribly blank with the guilt roiling within.

The last thing he expected was for Rose to grab his arm and tow him out the doors, but she did. They exchanged faint smiles, then they emerged next to a manhole cover emanating sheets of choking, plasticky smoke and orange light that had a hellfire glow to it.

Rose chose that moment to echo his thoughts on the matter. " _That_ looks welcoming." She hovered like she wanted to offer help when the Doctor pulled up the manhole cover.

Rose

The Doctor pulled up the cast iron cover with remarkable ease. He climbed in first, then offered her a hand down. Rose accepted it, used to this behaviour in John. Not surprising, considering they were the same person.

Once inside, Rose surveyed her surroundings warily. They were in the southern corner of a massive room roughly hewn from concrete. Blackened catwalks, including the one they were standing on, crisscrossed the room like the many legs of some gigantic, slumbering spider. Rose wasn't too fond of spiders. But that wasn't the only reason she had the heebie jeebies.

A pit of burnt-looking, viscous plastic fluid seethed and boiled, moving as if aware, alive, and performing some sinister dance.

Rose's eyes instinctively skated away from it, falling on the most absurd sight she'd ever seen. A knot of six Autons clustered close together, restraining someone. Rose had a sneaking suspicion who; not many people would be hitting a clump of hardened plastic killers with their shopping. Rose almost felt sorry for the dummies; if they could wear resigned expressions on their blank faces, they would be.

Meanwhile, the Doctor grabbed her hand, almost as if he needed comfort. Rose looked over. The Doctor was white as a sheet, staring at a piece of graffiti. Oddly enough, it read 'Bad Wolf'. "Something is going to happen." He murmured quietly.

He almost sounded scared. On a whim, Rose moved closer to the Doctor, leaning her chin on his shoulder, and tucking her arms around his waist. "What's going to happen?"

After shaking his head, the Doctor leaned his forehead against hers. "I don't know. What I do know is that two words have been following me for centuries. Ever since the beginning of the Time War. Bad Wolf, always Bad Wolf. Someone is manipulating Time, and we are right in the centre of it. Bad Wolf, always leading us somewhere."

Rose stuffed down faint pleasure at the use of the word 'we'. With a small sigh she disentangled herself from him, and forced a grin. "Ready to save the world?"

The Doctor smiled back. "Do you even have to ask?" Then a shadow passed over his face. "If Bad Wolf is here, then something bad is going to happen. Something much worse than our usual fare." He took one of her hands in both of his, his eyes pleading. "Please stay here. I promise I will do everything I can to get your mother and I to safety."

Reluctantly Rose nodded. Though, she thought fiercely, if you are in danger… With a relieved grin, the Doctor dropped her hand and strode down the stairs to the central platform. Watching him go, Rose shivered slightly.

He was like a tiger who'd watched his entire world burn, and then plucked embers from the ashes and placed them in his eyes, to burn forever. The Doctor was terrifying, but only because of what he was capable of, not because of what he would do.

By the point Rose finished her thought, the Doctor had reached the centre of the platform, and stood, feet apart, hands knotted behind his back, head bowed. Heh. Rose had always known he was overly dramatic. Slowly he raised his head, eyes burning with an intensity enough to intimidate any sensible being. Rose figured she wasn't sensible, because she liked it. "May I approach?"

The Doctor's words were perfectly polite, but they rang like a crystal bell with the pure note of power. The Nestene Consciousness boiled in answer, letting out a mournful-sounding gurgle. The Doctor inclined his head politely. He stepped forward, leaning a hip against the guardrail. The Doctor bobbed his head. "Thank you. Now, where was I?"

Abruptly the cute, harmless facade fell away. "Ah, yes. I request that you leave this planet and it's people in peace, before I am forced to call in reinforcements. Or if you prefer, I can defeat you on my own, as I have done on numerous occasions previously. Please choose wisely. I-" The last sentence cut off abruptly as the Doctor was seized roughly by two Autons.

Behind him, two twenty-foot panels slid into their recesses, revealing the TARDIS. Rose felt a chill run up her spine, and her palms began to sweat. When the Nestene Consciousness roared in betrayal, the Doctor answered, a thread of pleading in his voice that Rose had never heard before.

It squeezed Rose's heart in a panicked vise. "Please. I was only trying to help!" The Nestene Consciousness reared up to point at the TARDIS, hissing.

The Doctor's tone was broken, lacking conviction, like he'd already given up. "I didn't fight in the War, not that way. I'm one of the good ones. I'm not like them!" The Doctor's eyes were directly fixed on a point over the pit, like he was conversing with a ghost. He didn't even seem to notice when one of the dummies pulled the antiplastic out of his pocket, and held it aloft, as if in vindication.

His eyes finally focused on the vial, and fear stole into them. "I wasn't going to use it, I swear. It was only a negotiation tool!"

The Nestene Consciousness roared in unmitigated rage. Then, between one blink and the next, the Nestene Consciousness was encased in a dome of crackling blue lightning. Feeling a fresh spurt of panic ricocheting around her ribcage, Rose called out to the Doctor. "What's it doing?" There was a thick undercurrent of terror to her voice.

The Doctor emphatically gestured as much as he could, being restrained. "It's starting the primary invasion. You have to get back to the TARDIS! She'll take you somewhere safe."

Rose looked back and forth between them. Then she shook her head firmly. "No, Doctor. I'm not leaving you and Mum." The Doctor's face held a mixture of fear and pride. The building was shaking harder now. A ten foot chunk of concrete came crashing down, demolishing the stairs that led to the TARDIS.

Rose looked around, panic turning into a weird calm, and her gaze fell on an axe. Not to mention a length of sturdy chain, hanging from the ceiling and affixed to the wall with wooden moorings. Rose stared at it for a count of five, a brilliantly dumb plan blossoming in her brain.

Then she virtually flew over the ground, skidding to a halt in front of the axe. She lifted it off the wall, and heaved it onto her shoulder. Rose swung the axe in a shower of splinters. "No job."

She repeated the manoeuvre. "No a-levels."

Once again Rose brought the axe down. "Tell you what I do have, though."

She swung the axe a final time, and the chains came loose. "A future with the Doctor, traveling the stars."

Hopping nimbly up on the railing, Rose wrapped the chain around one forearm. "And I will _not_ lie down and die!"

On the last word, she swung. She careened madly past the Doctor. The dummy with the antiplastic went first, it and the blue liquid falling directly into the vat of Nestene Consciousness. The vial shattered on impact, spilling its contents everywhere. By the time Rose swung back around, all of the Autons were twitching on the floor, a pile of endless fashion disasters.

The Doctor was ready for her, and plucked her out of the air with ease. He pulled her into a fierce hug, and kissed the top of her head. He pulled back slightly and smiled softly at her. "How does it feel to save the world?"

Rose smiled back. "The best."

A cranky someone cleared her throat, sounding distinctly annoyed. "Is anyone going to tell me why shop dummies were walking, or why a plastic bag tried to kill me? Or why my daughter and her boyfriend are smack dab in the middle of it?"

Rose sighed, and unwound her arms from around the Doctor. "Mum, it'd be easier to show you than to tell you." Stepping away from the Doctor, she gently guided Jackie to the TARDIS, whose doors obediently sprang open.

Jackie took three steps in the door, and let out a ear piercing shriek, then fell over attempting to run away. She pivoted on her bum to face the Doctor, a look of wide-eyed terror on her face. "You're an alien!"

The Doctor snorted. "I never did notice. What gave it away? The two hearts? The dimensionally transcendental police box?"

Jackie's eyes narrowed dangerously, and she got to her feet, walking toward the Doctor like a very large cat stalking a mouse. Rose suddenly feared for the Doctor's continued existence. The Doctor stood by the console, completely oblivious or not caring about the danger he was in.

Jackie poked a finger in his chest. "You've been shagging my daughter. How old are you? Thirty? Thirty five?"

The Doctor flushed, but quickly regained his composure. "I'm not-" He squeaked. "Ah, never mind. I'm nearing my first millennium."

Jackie's jaw dropped, and Rose was worried she might start choking. "WHAT?!" Jackie finally shouted.

Then, out of the blue, she slapped the Doctor. Hard. Finally starting to feel it was a good idea not to antagonise her mum, the Doctor retreated around the console. He gingerly reached across the console, and flipped a switch. The TARDIS hummed, and began to haw to and fro.

The Doctor whispered in Rose's ear. "You have to tell her that you're traveling with me."

Rose squeaked in a very undignified manner. "She'll kill me!"

The Doctor smirked. "Better than what she'd do to me. I'd need a matchbox for a funeral pyre." Rose laughed, and went to go talk to Jackie.

She approached Jackie tentatively. "Mum, I'm going travelling with him."

Jackie looked appalled. "But you can't!"

Rose played with a strand of hair, but when she spoke, her voice was soft with a hint of steel. "Everyone leaves home in the end, whether you want to or not. And I do."

Jackie waved her hand about wildly to encompass the TARDIS. "Not to end up stuck here… in a great big spaceship!"

Rose smiled, and it was a content smile. "I won't be stuck in it, I'll be out traveling the universe."

Jackie sighed. "That's what scares me, sweetheart." Then in a reversal so fast it made Rose's head spin, her mum changed the subject. "You really love him, don't you?"

Caught off guard, Rose answered truthfully. "Yes."

The Doctor

One word, but it nearly bowled him over. How could she love him, who was broken, and had created rivers of blood? It was definitely a question to mull over, especially as her words had the ring of truth.

Just then, the TARDIS gave one final shudder, and fell still. The two women's conversation had ceased, and now Rose watched him. He smiled at her. Rose grinned back, looking giddy with excitement, and headed for the door. "I'm going to go pack."

The Doctor followed, shooting Jackie an anxious glance when she stayed inside. Right as they left, Jackie yelled a muffled curse.

Rose gazed sideways at the Doctor. "Will she be fine?"

The Doctor shrugged. "Certainly. As long as she doesn't end up in the trampoline room."

Rose shook her head, lips quirking. They arrived at Rose's room, and Rose pulled out a duffle bag. The Doctor leaned in the doorway as she packed. Rose picked up a yellow tank top and stared at it like it held the secrets of the universe. "What's your potential lifespan?"

The Doctor frowned. "Wha- Oh. Yes. Upwards of five thousand years, depending upon how fast I wear out my regenerations. Why?"

Rose shrugged, trying to look innocent and failing miserably. "Nothing. Just curious."

She continued to haphazardly cram clothes into her duffel. After a few minutes, she zipped up the bag, and straightened.

At that very moment, an enraged bellow sounded from the living room. "MY WALL!"

The Doctor glanced at Rose, taking her hand. "Run!" They ran.


	9. Chapter 9: Pieces of You

Rose

They collapsed against the doors of the TARDIS, both laughing hysterically. "She's gonna kill us when we get back." Rose wheezed between laughs.

The Doctor grinned wickedly. "Fortunately for our odds of survival, we have a TARDIS."

Then his face morphed into the familiar dead mask. "Rose," he said gently, "there's something strange I'd been meaning to delve into on one of the little outposts not far from Gallifrey. You could stay in the TARDIS. You'd be safe with her, barring complete catastrophe."

Oh, so that's what this was about. Rose reached out and intertwined her hand with his, once again marvelling at how well their hands fit. She looked the Doctor in the eye. "I want to stay with you, and I want to help people. Neither of which I can do from inside the TARDIS."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. Rose squeezed his hand. "Besides, it's not as if I didn't know what I was signing up for long before you opened that pocket watch. Human-you dreamed about the Time War every night for weeks."

The Doctor looked frustrated. He pulled up their intertwined hands and studied them for a moment before speaking. "The concept of free will is one that must be upheld at all times, otherwise I would have dumped you off on the first safe planet I could find where you'd be happy." He seemed to want to say something else, but if he did, he kept it to himself. Abruptly the Doctor pasted a cheerful grin on his face. "You must be tired. Would you like for me to show you to your room?"

Rose gazed at him, slightly askance. "I have a room? Like a generic, one-size-fits-all barracks or something?"

The Doctor looked slightly sheepish. "No, the TARDIS has been preparing a room for you. It'll be what you want subconsciously."

Rose narrowed her eyes at him in mock suspicion. "And she's been working on this for how long?"

The Doctor looked away, the tips of his ears going scarlet. "About six weeks. She wouldn't say, so I'm pretty sure she's been working on it ever since you stepped foot in the flat." A low, slightly reproving hum echoed through the TARDIS. Little splotches of colour appeared on the Doctor's cheekbones. "She says there's a very good reason for that; you're good for me."

Rose was the one blushing now; the dimensionally transcendental hatbox had come a little too close to sparking a discussion about feelings. Time for a change of subject, and maybe a distraction. Without any warning, she dropped the Doctor's hand, and launched herself for the opening set opposite in the wall. "Race ya!"

With a peal of laughter, the Doctor threw himself after her. Even with her head start, the Doctor still won. He turned around, sauntering backwards down the hall. "How do you like the TARDIS?"

Rose shrugged slightly. "She's interesting. Friendly enough, but she's kind of odd." It was true enough. Rose liked the TARDIS, and she certainly wasn't lacking in interesting things. They'd passed by a set of gothic doors, and now were in a large, white-panelled hall with doors on either side. The Doctor stopped by a cherrywood door with a carved rose in the top.

The Doctor executed a shallow bow. "Your room." Rose rolled her eyes, grinning, at his overly theatrical performance. The Doctor turned to leave, then paused. "If you need me, I'll be in the console room."

Rose eyed him. "Don't you ever sleep?"

The Doctor was already walking away. "Not anymore."

Rose slipped into her room, plopping down on the bed without even bothering to remove her trainers. Adrenaline spent, Rose fell into an uneasy sleep.

The Doctor

Time senses locked down tight, the Doctor tried vainly to ignore the ghosts of his past. Alone, it was harder to fight them, and the numbness and the rage. Distracted by his thoughts, the Doctor dropped his laser spanner on the carpet, and let out a soft Gallifreyan curse. He leaned forward to pick it up, and froze just as his fingertips brushed it. "What is it?" The Doctor asked the TARDIS, none too politely.

He did not need another pointless thing to deal with. The TARDIS hummed again, much louder. The Doctor shook his head, feeling as if someone had struck a gong inside his head. "Fine. But if this backfires, be it upon your helmic regulator."

Reluctantly, the Doctor dropped his shields, and winced. Ungodly terror exploded in his mind, an endless supply of Dalek battle cries, rotting corpses, fire, and children crying. The Doctor waded through it, searching through what the TARDIS wanted him to find. At last he found the isolated spark of Rose's mind. It was lit up mauve with terror and guilt. The Doctor touched the ragged edges of her dream, and recoiled slightly, feeling a twinge of sorrow.

Oh Rose, he thought, this was my burden to bear, not yours. Guilt and misgivings twisting his hearts into knots, the Doctor navigated the twisting hallways that led to Rose's room. Why had he brought her? She was strong, that was certain. But the Time War could make monsters out of anyone. Rassilon knew it had managed with him.

More importantly, why had she decided to come herself? Rose had admitted freely that she was in love with him. Was that enough to make her follow him into a war zone? The Doctor shook his head, realising he was in front of her door. Raising a hand, he knocked sharply three times.

Rose

Rose sat bolt upright on the second knock, her heart racing, tears streaming down her face in little rivers. "Come in." Her voice was shaky.

The door opened with a faint creaking noise, and the Doctor stepped in. Gone were the singed, torn clothes with the bullet hole in one thigh. The clothes he wore now were rougher, somehow. The colours were darker and more drab. It was as if the last trace of the Doctor, the man with the soul of a poet was fading into the wind. In his place was a reluctant warrior.

A cool, chilly female voice whispered in Rose's ear. _The Oncoming Storm_. Rose shook her head. Where had that come from? The Doctor watched her with mingled concern and misgivings. Rose flinched slightly at the the thought of what he might be thinking, and her tears streamed harder.

The Doctor gazed at her sadly. "Oh, Rose." He crossed over to sit gingerly on the edge of her bed. The Doctor wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and after a second she relaxed against him. Rose wiped her eyes furiously in an attempt to staunch the torrent of tears. "It wasn't your fault they died, Rose."

Rose glanced up at him, startled. "How did you know?" Then it clicked. The guilt he always felt. "Don't you ever sleep?" "Not anymore." Rose gazed up at him, sorrow and sympathy and guilt running amok inside her heart. "It's not your fault, either, Doctor."

The Doctor moved away from her slightly, as if he couldn't bear the touch of another person. His voice rose slightly. "If I hadn't come to earth, those people would still be alive, Rose. Two hundred people, still living and loving and breathing. Still eating chips and watching telly, and having crushes and all the other absurd things that humans do. Do you think it's not my fault, do you really? It would have been better if I'd never come to earth." They both heard the unspoken words hiding behind his statement.

Rose scooted closer to him, and wrapped an arm around his waist. She wasn't sure how exactly to articulate her thoughts, but she gave it her best shot. "Doctor, there was no one else willing or able to stop the Nestenes. Even under the influence of the chameleon arch, you were still the best person for the job."

The Doctor gazed down at her, forcing a smile. "You saved me, saved earth. You could have done it on your own."

Rose blushed, picking aimlessly at the duvet. "No, I couldn't have, Doctor. Without you, without something to fight for, I never would have wanted to believe anything was wrong." She shook her head. "Who knows? I might well have been on that list of the dead."

The Doctor wrapped his arms more tightly around her, and for a long moment they were caught in the slippery entanglement of might've-beens. The Doctor pulled back slightly, and smiled at Rose. It saddened her, that small, slightly bitter smile, so unlike his bright, engaging grins when free from his memories. Rose wished she could take his pain away.

Time seemed to stick like taffy as Rose unconsciously reached out to trace the planes of his face. The Doctor cleared his throat, and Rose blushed, dropping her hand. "You should get some sleep."

Rose hunched down on herself as the Doctor stood up. She looked up at him, suddenly nervous. "Will you stay?"

The Doctor's eyes softened slightly as he looked at her. "I will."

As the lights dimmed of their own accord, Rose could hear quiet rustling as the Doctor settled down onto the floor beside her bed. A few moments later, Rose jumped as something settled onto the edge of her bed.

She calmed down as she realised that it was the Doctor's outstretched hand. Feeling slightly touched by the gesture, Rose interlaced her fingers with the Doctor's. She went to sleep.

The Doctor

As he woke, the Doctor wondered why exactly his arm was twisted at such an awkward angle. And why, of all places, he was lying on someone's rug. The Doctor slowly pried open one eye. Pink and an ungodly amount of ruffles greeted his eyes. That's right, he was in Rose's room.

Mentally thanking the TARDIS for the sheer fluffiness of the (bright pink)rug, the Doctor sat up. And smiled slightly. Rose still clutched onto his hand with both of hers. She was tangled in the comforter, one leg kicked out straight, the other tucked into her body. The Doctor gently disentangled his hand from her grasp, and went to go make breakfast.

Rose

Rose had no idea how early it was when she woke next, just that it was far too early in her estimation. The Doctor was nowhere to be found. Rose pulled the covers over her head, and tried to go back to sleep. No such luck. Her stomach growled and her bladder protested. Flinging her feet over the side of the bed, Rose went to go deal with her necessities.

Thirty minutes later, Rose was feeling a little more human. Stepping out into the hall, Rose abruptly realised that she had not the faintest impression where to find the Doctor. As if the TARDIS could hear her confusion, several of the lights winked out. Only to blink back on, then repeat the process further down the hall. Curious, Rose took several steps down the hall. The lights blinked faster. Rose trotted down the hall after them.

It took some doing, but eventually the TARDIS guided her to a retro chrome and glass door that seemed distinctly out of place. Shaking her head, Rose opened the door... and stared. Amidst a kitchen that would not have been out of place in a fifties diner, the Doctor was busy flipping pancakes while tapping out a complex rhythm on the stovetop.

He looked up as she entered, and gave another of those sardonic, slightly bitter smiles she was getting used to. "Good morning, Rose."

She flashed him a brief smile, and went to lean on the counter next to him. "Good morning." They stood in silence for a few moments, while the Doctor added to the growing stack of pancakes.

Rose sniffed the air. "Are those banana?"

The Doctor nodded. "Yes, they are."

The Doctor slapped the last pancake onto the pile, and gazed sideways at her. "We passed through the timelock while you were asleep. It's a one way trip unless Gallifrey chooses to allow us out. Our next stop is Viridis IV. Are you ready?"

Rose answered honestly, her heart twisting at the thought of what awaited them. "No, I'm not."

The Doctor looked slightly relieved. "Glad to know that you realise the sheer scale of what we're up against." At Rose's slightly perplexed look, the Doctor elaborated. "If you look forward to war, you're either insane, a fool, or a monster. I don't think you're the first, and you're certainly not the other two."

Rose wasn't sure whether to be flattered or slap him. But then again, borderline rude was the Doctor's specialty. Too bad he wasn't human, and made her heart leap every time he entered the room. While Rose was pondering what he'd said, the Doctor had placed two stacks of pancakes on plates, and placed a jug of maple syrup next to them. Rose plopped down in the chair across from him and started pouring maple syrup on her pancakes.

She set the jug by the Doctor's plate. "What is Viridis IV? Why's it so important?" The

Doctor glanced up from drowning his pancakes in a ocean of syrup. "It shouldn't be."

Rose paused, dropping a piece of pancake. "Come again?"

The Doctor tilted his head, obviously enjoying messing with her. "It shouldn't be important. It's a simple human farming colony. It has no unusual resources, no great strategic value. But the Daleks are guarding it even more fiercely than their own creator. We're going to find out why, and stop them."

There was a fierce edge to his tone that was almost frightening. Something clicked. The Doctor had never spoken of his enemy, but the way he talked about these Daleks... Rose looked up. "These Daleks, they're what we're fighting, aren't they?"

The Doctor nodded, eyes haunted. "Yes, Rose. They are." Abruptly, he laughed. "I really should be telling you these things, shouldn't I?"

Rose just stared at him, chin tilted up. The Doctor sighed. "Very well. After this mission, we'll begin your education."

Satisfied with this, Rose speared a sticky piece of pancake. She took a bite, and hummed with pleasure. If all of the Doctor's cooking was this good, she was in trouble. For a few minutes, the clinking of plates and faint chewing were the only noises. Rose and the Doctor set down their silverware at almost the same time. They glanced at each other in amusement. The Doctor gathered up the plates, and set them in the sink. The Doctor offered Rose his arm. "Shall we?"

Rose took his arm, and grinned up at him. "Definitely." Together they made their way to the console room.

The Doctor

He flipped the dematerialisation switch, and they were on their way. The Doctor glanced over at Rose, where she leaned on the console. She gestured at his freshly cut hair. "What's up with the hair? Why did you cut it?"

The Doctor shrugged. "I find it's easier to cope with. Takes less time to dry if I fall in the ocean."

Rose grinned at him. "Do that often?"

He smirked. "Now and again."

The Doctor abruptly realised that he'd been flirting. He stopped himself. It wouldn't be fair to Rose. Rose was looking at him oddly, and as the TARDIS jolted to a halt, the Doctor took his chance for a distraction. "We're here." He announced unnecessarily.

The Doctor extended his hand. Rose took it. He looked at her, the Oncoming Storm seething under his skin like electrical discharge. "Some ground rules. First, don't wander off. Second, don't go looking for trouble. And finally, if something happens to me, come back to the TARDIS. She'll take you somewhere safe." If nothing else, Romana would take care of Rose if he died. That was the first thing he'd worked on last night.

Rose looked stubborn. "Nothing is going to happen to you. I won't let it." The Doctor admired the fiery little tilt of her chin as she met his gaze. She was stunning. Rose narrowed her eyes slightly. "What?"

The Doctor tore his gaze away with effort. "Nothing. If we're quite clear on the rules, then let's go. We've got a world to save." They headed for the exit.

Rose

She stuck like a burr to the Doctor's side as they walked out of the TARDIS. But Rose was still not prepared for what she saw when they exited the TARDIS. The alley they'd landed in wasn't too bad, and Rose almost asked the Doctor if they'd landed in the wrong place. But something in the cautious way that the Doctor stole forward made her keep silent and move as stealthily as possible. However, when they entered the street, a chill crept down Rose's spine. The streets were empty of people. Except for the corpses and the pepper-pot-like metal monsters. Bodies rotted where they lay, amidst charred rubble. The Doctor pulled Rose around the corner and into a patch of shadow.

He pointed at a pepper-pot. "Those are Daleks. They will kill anything that isn't like them. Don't let them see you, whatever you do."

Well, that was reassuring. Rose nodded, feeling more than a little freaked out. Seemingly satisfied, the Doctor picked his way onwards. Rose followed, keeping a wary eye out for Daleks. Gradually the scenery changed from smaller businesses, all deserted, to larger burnt-out warehouses. Rose was falling into a trance when the Doctor stopped. They were in front of a large, grey warehouse, the first they'd seen that was intact. Rose leaned over to whisper in the Doctor's ear. "What do we do now?"

The Doctor smiled grimly. "First we find a window." They approached the warehouse cautiously, and the Doctor selected a window from criteria unknown to Rose. Rose stared at the grimy glass, wondering exactly what her mother would think. The Doctor ran a silver cylinder over the catch of the pane.

Rose stared at the cylinder. "What is that?"

The Doctor glanced up absently. "Mhm? Oh. It's a sonic screwdriver. Uses sound waves to do a number of things."

Rose shifted her weight and grinned. "You mean it's a lock pick."

The Doctor graciously declined to comment. After a second, the lock clicked, and the window popped open. The Doctor lifted the pane, and slid through. A second later, his hand appeared. "It's safe."

Rose took his hand, and scrambled through. She emerged into a small room that might have been an office in one of its incarnations. But now it was merely a wreck, with panelling scattered everywhere. The Doctor headed for the door. He was six feet away when a blinding blue-white light filled up the room like a supernova. Rose squeezed her eyes shut, suddenly terrified. What if they'd walked into a trap? The light died away, and Rose opened her eyes, still dazzle-blind. "Doctor, are you okay?"

When he answered, it had a strange echo. "Yes." Rose groped for the familiar sleeve, and found it. The last of the spots in Rose's eyes faded, and Rose blinked again.

There were three Doctors.


	10. Chapter 10: The Oncoming Storm

Rose

Within seconds, small differences began making themselves plain. One Doctor was peering around him with dreamy curiosity.

The second stood by, perfectly serene.

The third, whom Rose had attached herself to, was glaring at the world in general with unparalleled grumpiness.

Dropping the Doctor's sleeve, Rose stared back and forth between them in disbelief. "Tell me I'm not seeing three of you."

The grumpy one glared at her like she was supremely stupid. "Yes."

The dreamy Doctor had skipped away, and was busy examining a collection of rusty nails.

The rational Doctor glanced at them without the slightest trace of annoyance crossing his features. "It appears I walked through a pan-dimensional dissector beam. It reduced me to the sum of my personality."

Rose understood maybe half of that. "So you're the different parts of your personality? Like you're the... rational part."

She gestured toward the grumpy Doctor. "An' he's the raw emotion."

Rose shook her head in baffled amusement at the dreamy Doctor. "No clue what he's supposed to be."

She took a deep breath. "What about names? I can't keep calling you all 'Doctor'."

Then an idea came to her. Rose pointed to the serene Doctor. "You'll be the Doctor."

She nodded towards the cranky Doctor. "And you'll be the grumpy Doctor." His only reply was a muffled 'hmph'. Rose frowned at the third Doctor, who was currently frolicking in circles. She didn't think that calling him the brain-damaged Doctor would go over well. Rose snapped her fingers. "That's what! Eccentric Doctor."

The eccentric Doctor had wandered off to the window. "The suns are lovely."

Rose shook her head, and looked at the Doctor. "What now?"

The Doctor combed his hand through his hair, the first sign of movement she'd seen from him. "I think it would be advisable to split up. We can cover more ground than in one group, and we're less likely to be discovered that way."

Rose eyed the kooky Doctor and the grumpy Doctor with unease. "Are you sure that's wise?"

The serene Doctor smiled. "Quite so. I'll take my eccentric self." Rose and the perpetually cranky Doctor both relaxed.

"You, however, my dear Rose, will be with the Oncoming Storm."

Rose didn't recognise the name, but she knew what was being implied. "WHAT?!" They both uttered the protest at the same moment, but for one it was an outraged growl, and for the other it was a incredulous squeak.

The Doctor's smile widened. The bastard was enjoying this! "Now, Rose, Storm, you both know that Rose does excellently at keeping you in check. I propose that you and Rose take the upper level, and my eccentric self and I shall take the lower floor." He flashed a final smile at them, took the eccentric Doctor by the arm, and left out the main door.

Rose peered warily at the Oncoming Storm. He was very carefully not looking at her. After a long time, he met her gaze. His voice was surprisingly gentle, the maelstrom of emotion in his eyes anything but. "We might as well get moving. Come on, Rose Tyler."

He offered his arm. Rose was almost surprised at the old fashioned gesture, but took his arm anyway. They exited through the main door, and emerged into a massive room that might have once been a supply warehouse. But now Daleks levitated high above the floor, and where the storage racks probably once held supplies, it now held racks of weapons, gruesome-looking equipment, and... other things. Living things. Rose looked at the Oncoming Storm, and saw the rage and horror she felt mirrored on his face. They crept cautiously from their hiding spot, making for the stairwell as instructed. Luckily, they were not spotted, but the walk was tense anyway. Made more so by the fact that with every new horror that was revealed, the Doctor radiated waves of rage and was wound tighter than a coiled spring.

They climbed the switchbacking stairs in silence. Rose quietly mulled over all that had happened. These aspects of the Doctor seemed distinctly unstable. They didn't seem dangerous(to her). The eccentric Doctor had a kind of childlike charm, and the rational Doctor seemed to have gotten the mischievous sense of humour that she knew and loved. The Oncoming Storm was another kettle of fish entirely. She wasn't afraid of him, but she had no doubt that the Daleks would be in a world of hurt if they tried to harm anyone in front of him. She glanced at where their arms were interlinked. They reached the top of the stairs, and the Oncoming Storm opened the door for her. Rose looked at a suspicious stain/scorch mark and gulped.

The Storm noted her reaction and his face softened. "I know."

They quickly found out that the upper floors appeared deserted.

The Doctor thrust his hands into his pockets with a huff of exasperation. "They sent us on a bloody wild goose chase."

Rose leaned against the wall. "Seems like it." She tilted her head slightly, struck by curiosity. "Why do they call you the Oncoming Storm?"

His face turned positively thunderous. "Because I am."

That was a non answer if Rose had ever heard one. She was starting to feel slightly exasperated, but she kept her voice calm. "Care to elaborate?"

The Doctor's voice rose. "No."

Rose found herself growing angry. "Why not? Got something to be afraid of?"

The Doctor advanced, stabbing a finger at her. "Rose Marion Tyler, I don't know how my other two selves even put up with you!"

Rose stumbled back, stung. But she couldn't resist a parting shot. "I don't know why I put up with you!"

The Doctor reeled back, looking as if she'd slapped him. Rose ran, afraid of the emotion roiling in his eyes. She wasn't even watching where she was going, until she bounced off of something... or someone. Falling backwards, Rose looked up to see a man in his twenties glaring at her with empty, vacant eyes. A thin strip of metal arched up and over his head. Rose noted with a pang of terror that he held a massive, eggbeater-shaped gun. That he was currently aiming at her.

Rose dodged left just as he fired, leaving a scorch mark right where she had been sitting, and a scream hanging in the air. Rose scrambled to her feet, and zigzagged madly, trying to keep ahead of the awful whining of the energy weapon. It seared the air all around her, and Rose watched in seemingly slow motion as it passed so close to her face that it sheared off a fluttering strand of hair.

Just then, Rose collided with a cool body wrapped in an velvet trench coat. Faster than she could react, the Doctor had placed himself between her and the approaching creature. His sonic screwdriver appeared in his hand, and the Doctor aimed it. A high pitched hum echoed through the room, and a second later the man slumped to the ground.

Rose moved out from behind the Doctor, and approached the tangled heap of a body. It looked so pitiful, lying on the ground. "You killed him."

The Doctor met her gaze steadily. "No, Rose. The Daleks did, a long time ago. That was a Roboman, the Dalek's useful little labour source."

The Doctor's eyes wandered over her intently, as if checking for injuries. Abruptly his eyes snapped to the singed, half-length hank of hair, and stopped. Raw, unadulterated fear entered his eyes, and took Rose's breath away. The Doctor spun Rose around, eyes frantically roaming her body. "Did it graze you? Even the smallest brush of the death ray can induce fatal organ failure."

Rose put her hand over his, where it rested on her arm, and looked into his eyes, trying to pack as much reassurance as she could into her words. "I'm fine. It only brushed my hair."

The Doctor leaned his forehead against hers. "I could have lost you." He murmured.

The Doctor's eyes snapped open, and he stared at her, and there was something fierce in his gaze. His hand snaked around to tangle in her hair, and he was kissing her. She'd wanted this so badly. Too bad his other selves didn't feel the same way about her. And too bad he wouldn't- Ah hell. Rose relaxed into the kiss and threw a leg around his hip. The Doctor made a noise of surprise, which Rose savoured.

Then things began to go to hell in rapid order. "The female and the fragment will separate!" A high-pitched, metallic voice ordered. Rose, not understanding, made a noise of protest when the Doctor unwound Rose's arms and legs, and set her on the ground.

She turned around, and came face to eyestalk with a Dalek.

The Doctor

The Doctor crept along, and paused, waiting for his kooky self to catch up. The eccentric Doctor glanced at him with that gaze that saw all too much. "What happens now?"

The Doctor lifted his gaze to one of the cages high above them. "I think we ought to have a talk with the test subjects. I think it might be... informative." He glanced back at his other self. "Give me a boost, wouldn't you?"

Wordlessly, the other Doctor formed a stirrup with his hands. A second later, the Doctor hurtled toward the steel shelf, and caught it, levering himself up. Swinging his hips and torso around, he helped his other self up. They both stood up, and beheld a blood chilling sight. In the next area, there was a fully blown laboratory complete with six holding cells, several surgical tables, and a whole lot of nasty equipment.

Led by three Daleks, were the Oncoming Storm and Rose. They had their hands on their heads. Several other details soon became apparent, creating an _interesting_ picture. The Doctor couldn't tell very well from where he was, but it looked like both Rose and the other fragment's hair was mussed, and Rose appeared to be rather woozy. The Doctor shook his head in amazement. Had they gotten caught snogging? He knew how they felt about Rose, but to think that the Storm would be that blatantly stupid as to risk Rose and himself... that was unthinkable.

He looked at his eccentric self, and saw the bright anger he felt mirrored there. The odd one spoke first. "First we talk to the prisoners, then we go save the two lovebirds from themselves."

The Oncoming Storm

He was having a bad day. Although, as the Storm thought of kissing Rose, he wondered if maybe today wasn't so bad after all. Provided they survived. More of the Robomen strapped his wrists and ankles to the table. He glanced over, to see that Rose was getting similar treatment. She was uninjured, but unamused. He could see her shooting vicious glares at the Robomen.

He addressed the Daleks. "Why haven't you exterminated us yet? I find that this new approach is rather uninteresting."

The nearest Dalek's eyestalk swung around. It looked at him, appearing to consider. "You will be exterminated as soon as the required information is obtained. The girl is a temporal anomaly. She will lead us to victory."

A chill ran down the Doctor's spine. Bad Wolf, showing up again at the same time as Rose. The way he couldn't see her timelines. Temporal anomaly was putting it mildly. But what did it mean? What would Rose become? The Storm's time senses briefly showed a flash of something. _Daleks dissolving into golden dust, an eerie song running through the Doctor's mind._ This body had always had acute time senses, ever since waking up in that morgue in San Francisco. Goosebumps rose on his arms.

The Dalek's eyestalk thrashed wildly. "You have information! Explain! EXPLAIN!" The Oncoming Storm was deciding what to do when a loud explosion rocked the building.


	11. Chapter 11: Lady Tempest

The Doctor

He hopped up onto the ledge where the large, metal cage rested. The eccentric Doctor followed. Two humans occupied the cage, a man and a woman. They bore a striking family resemblance, and appeared to be mother and son. The man looked about Rose's age, and had a pleasant, cheerful face. The woman was much sterner, with hair that was starting to grey. The woman noticed them, and stepped in front of her son. She crossed her arms and tipped her chin up. "Time Lord." Her voice brooked no welcome. The Doctor noted with some anger that she bore lesions consistent with radiation poisoning.

He tipped his head politely to her. "Pleased to meet you. What's your name?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Selena."

Reluctantly, Selena added, "This is my son, Trevor."

Trevor turned eyes only slightly less hostile than his mother's on the two Doctors. "Hullo."

Selena fixed the Doctor with a suspicious glare. "What do you want?"

The Doctor studied her. His eccentric self watched the standoff with interest. "Information."

Selena considered briefly. "If I tell you what you need to know, will you take us away from here, to an unoccupied planet? I won't last much longer. The Daleks have seen to that."

I would have done that anyway, the Doctor thought but was careful not to say. "Yes. I'll take you away from here."

Selena nodded formally, as if sealing a pact.

Out of the corner of his eye, the Doctor could see the eccentric Doctor fiddling around with something. Uh oh. Never a good sign. He turned his attention back to Selena. "What are the Daleks experimenting with that would lead them to irradiate random people and simply leave them?"

Selena tilted her head, a small, chilly smile on her face. "Paradox radiation."

The world leapt up and punched the Doctor in the face. If the Daleks had gotten ahold of paradox radiation and learned to harness it, the results would be beyond catastrophic. This could lose them the war. And with it, the universe. The Doctor's voice was cold, and unpleasant enough to make Selena and Trevor both flinch. "Tell me about the experiments they've been performing. Now."

Selena's eyes widened, and she bumped into Trevor. "They tried it on native humans first, and it didn't work, I don't think. We just kept dying. But then I overheard the Daleks saying something about 'genetic resistance', and they brought in some new people who looked human but weren't." She shuddered.

"And?" The Doctor prompted gently.

Selena looked up. "They exposed them to the paradox radiation, of course. But they didn't die. They screamed for days. And then they stopped. We thought they were deader than a Dalek's mother, but the Daleks opened up one of the cells, and the thing inside busted out and ripped a Dalek to pieces. With its bare hands."

The Doctor put his hands to his temples and paced. "Why, why, why would they do this?"

Something went whistling over his head, and it wasn't a metaphor. The Doctor looked up, and saw a small, blinking package whizzing toward the other end of the warehouse at fastball speeds. His head whipped around, and he glared at the eccentric Doctor, who was still in a pitchers pose. The other Doctor straightened awkwardly, and grinned brightly at the Doctor. A second later, a gigantic explosion threw them to the ground.

The eccentric Doctor leapt gleefully to his feet. "There's our diversion."

He slid down the side of the rack even as seemingly all the Daleks in existence converged on the site of the explosion, leaving only a handful of Robomen guarding the Oncoming Storm and Rose. The Doctor sighed and followed his eccentric self down the side of the industrial storage rack.

Rose

She struggled against her bindings, knowing that if she could just get free, she'd be in top shape.

A dreamy, childlike voice interrupted her struggles. "I got arrested on Felspoon once, and put in bindings just like these. It was quite unpleasant."

And then slim, strong, familiar hands were undoing her bindings. Rose sat up, rubbing feeling back into her numb wrists. She smiled gratefully at the Doctor, knowing instantly that it was the eccentric Doctor. "Thank you."

The eccentric Doctor smiled blindingly. "I'd say don't mention it, but your voice is nice."

Rose shook her head. This one was odd, and she wasn't sure whether he was flirting or not. She glanced around, and the Doctor was letting a grumbling Oncoming Storm out of his ties. They both stood in unison, and Rose launched herself at the Storm in a staggering hug. For the second time that day, however, they were rudely interrupted.

Loud, metallic cries of "Intruder!" And "Exterminate!" could be heard, as the Daleks converged on their location. Reluctantly, the two broke apart.

Rose looked to the Oncoming Storm with the beginnings of panic. "What the hell do we do now?"

He looked around quickly, obviously cataloging the room. Then he towed her and his other selves toward a large control board, pulling them behind it. "We hide."

Crammed into that tiny space, Rose thought that was the most god awful idea ever. Even more so when a Dalek popped up right overhead, firing at the rational Doctor. He just barely managed to move out of the way, and a singe mark was left where he'd been sitting. Rapidly, it turned into a deadly dance.

That was when an idea struck Rose. It might have been the adrenaline, or maybe the danger that the Doctors were in, but the idea was simple in it's suicidal brilliance. As if in a trance, Rose stood up. She leaned over the control panel, and started flipping switches. She didn't know what the heck she was doing, but she was used to that. The Storm tried to pull her back down, but she dodged his hands. A Dalek's death ray struck the panel just next to her, and Rose let out a breath that could have been her last. Rose redoubled her efforts, finally hitting pay gold in a fat yellow switch.

She flipped it, and did not resist when the Oncoming Storm pulled her down. The Daleks were exploding in a fireworks display of myriad golden firestorms. A Dalek blew up just on the other side of the control panel, and Rose was suddenly at the centre of a huddle of Time Lord. At last the explosions died down, and they cautiously stood up. They had survived!

Suddenly elated, Rose threw her arms around the neck of the nearest Doctor, and planted a kiss on his lips. After a second, she realised it was the eccentric Doctor she'd kissed, and drew back in embarrassment and uncertainty.

The eccentric Doctor smiled softly at her, his arms going around her waist. "We all feel the same way about you, for different reasons, you know."

He paused, seeming to think. "I care about you for the mystery you represent, the rational one wants you for everything you've done and are to us, and the Storm- well, he loves you simply for who you are."

He tapped her nose. "Remember that, even when we're one person. It might take a good push for me to get some sense knocked into me, but I- we love you."

Rose had only one response to that. She kissed him again. About the time his body pressed to hers, or her hands tangled in his hair, one of the other Doctors cleared his throat. When they broke apart, Rose was flushed, and the eccentric Doctor was grinning, his crystal blue eyes as clear and innocent as ever. Under the politely interested gaze of the rational Doctor, and the slightly jealous one of the Oncoming Storm, Rose blushed even further.

She looked away. "Let's go deal with the refugees, and put Humpty Dumpty back together again, alright?"

The eccentric Doctor grinned and spun her around. "I was hoping you'd say that!"

The Doctor

Back in the TARDIS console room, the Doctor watched Rose walk among the refugees who were all that remained of the colony world of Viridis IV. Six hundred people out of thirty six million. They'd won, but the victory was like ashes on his tongue. Even being back in one piece wasn't enough for him. Just once, couldn't everyone live?

Like a ghost from his memories, Selena popped up next to the console. She looked better already. She gazed out over the assembled people, then looked back at him. Her green eyes saw all too much. "You didn't have to take the rest of us, and you certainly didn't have to cure us."

The Doctor rubbed his eyes. "You're wrong about that." Was all he said.

When the Doctor opened his eyes again, Selena was watching Rose keenly as she interacted with another young woman, a baby balanced on her hip. Rose said something, and the young woman laughed, a nervous smile spreading across her face. The Doctor strongly suspected that the majority of the people wouldn't have set foot on the TARDIS without Rose's encouragement.

Selena laughed bitterly. "A Time Lord in love with a human. That's bound to be a first." She looked at him. "Tell me, what would your Lady President think of that?"

The Doctor stilled, and the silence acquired a dangerous cast. "I wouldn't, if I were you."

His tone was mild, but something in his eyes indicated the truth: that the Doctor would do almost anything to protect Rose. The standoff between them was growing quite intense when Rose appeared.

Rose shot them a curious look, but hugged the Doctor anyway. The Doctor savoured the feeling of her breath on his throat, as he wouldn't allow himself anything more. Rose unwound her arms from around his shoulders, and bounced on the balls of her feet.

"We're going now, right? There's always more people to save." The Doctor smiled, and flipped the dematerialisation switch.


	12. Chapter 12: Made to be Broken

The Doctor

Much later, long after they'd dropped the refugees on a little planet on the edge of the timelock, the Doctor and Rose sat enjoying a brief moment of quiet. The Doctor had been amused to note that the TARDIS had replaced his solitary armchair with a sofa.

Glancing at Rose with some amusement, where she lay sprawled out across the other end of the couch, he asked, "Aren't you going to bed anytime soon?"

Rose shook her head obstinately, eyes fixed resolutely on the Harry Potter book. "No, not yet."

She peered at him upside down, her blonde hair splayed out over the couch cushions. "What's the problem with my sleeping habits?"

The Doctor smiled playfully at her, pretending to tip up his nose in distaste. "Humans. Always sleeping away a third of your lifespan."

Rose bopped him on the nose with her index finger. "Stop that, you." She said mock sternly.

The Doctor held up his hands in surrender. Then he smiled again. "What question is eating at you?" For indeed Rose looked like she desperately wanted to ask him something.

She glanced up at him, fiddling with a strand of hair. A memory smacked him upside the head. _His hands winding into that hair, Rose's lips on his._

The Doctor shook his head fuzzily, and missed everything but the soft sound of Rose's words. "Say that again?"

Rose looked caught between amusement and suspicion, but readily repeated her question. "You said you'd teach me about Time Lords and the Time War; teach me what I need to know to survive."

The Doctor nodded. He'd kind of gotten sidetracked by getting split into three separate, warring aspects. That could definitely do that to a Time Lord. Especially when those aspects were distinctly less inhibited when it came to their desire to make out with a certain Rose Tyler. "Where would you like to start? Time Lords, Daleks, or the history of the Time War?"

Rose shuddered. "Definitely not Daleks. Time Lords, then."

Rose flipped herself right side up with surprising ease. Now she was sitting next to him, her jean-clad leg brushing his. The Doctor fought back a shiver, and focused hard on dry, dusty old facts about drier, dustier old Time Lords. Certainly not how her warmth was a balm to his wounded soul. The Doctor gave up and started talking. "Through a process called regeneration, Time Lords have thirteen lives, sometimes less, sometimes more. The first thirteen times a Time Lord is mortally wounded or dies of old age, they regenerate." The Doctor wondered how she'd react to the next part. Not many humans could cope with the idea, much less the reality.

Rose looked at him curiously. "So what, they heal themselves or something?"

The Doctor gave her hand a quick squeeze. "No, we change our entire appearance, and some aspects of our personality. We remain ourselves at the core, however."

Rose stared at him, then let out a low whistle. "That's really something."

She shyly peered up at him. "You'd still be you, though?"

The Doctor smiled softly at her, feeling reassured by her reaction. "Still me, just a different face and probably a very different dress sense."

Her next question didn't surprise him. "Which life are you on now?"

He slid an arm around Rose's shoulders. "My eighth."

Rose's eyes narrowed in thought. "So a thousand years for eight lives. That makes it, what? One hundred twenty years or so per body? How exactly are you supposed to reach five thousand that way?"

Much as he hated to admit it... "I most likely won't reach five thousand. Except for my first and last bodies, I don't age, so I can live indefinitely as long as I don't meet a bullet or an energy weapon. Unfortunately, I often do. And with the way the war is going, I'll be lucky to reach my second millennium."

Rose snuggled closer to him, and put her hand over his, a worried expression on her face. "You don't think...?"

The Doctor felt warmer for her concern. "I'm not planning on dying for good anytime soon, Rose." To his surprise, he meant it. Eight months ago, it wouldn't have been true, but now... Rose had changed him, and she didn't even know it.

Rose raised a hand slightly, then dropped it. "Good. Or I'd hunt you down."

The Doctor pretended to shiver with fear. "I'm terrified."

Rose grinned at him. "You should be."

The Doctor cleared his throat, trying to dispel the tension between them. "Anyway, regeneration. There is one difference between a regular Gallifreyan and a Time Lord or Lady. And that would be regeneration, although even that doesn't always carry over. As a general rule, Gallifreyans don't regenerate, although there are exceptions to that rule. Time Lords do, although only after they look into the Time vortex."

Rose nodded, looking thoughtful. Suddenly, looking into Rose's gold flecked eyes, the Doctor made a horrible connection between the young woman sitting beside him, and a memory. Two memories collided, creating horrifying parallels. _"The female is a temporal anomaly. She will lead us to victory."_ Then a not-memory ripped straight from his time senses. _Daleks torn into golden dust, light the colour of Time itself surrounding everything._ The Doctor stiffened, staring at Rose in mounting horror. The pieces were falling into place. But as another image flashed across his time senses, one that made his blood go icy and his hearts threaten to shatter, the Doctor knew it would be too late to save them.

Rose stared at him, eyes wide and fearful. "Wh-what is it? You know something about me." The last pitched up slightly, nervous and wavering for all that it was almost a demand.

The Doctor gathered her to him, trying to etch this moment on his hearts, on his very soul. He was scared. No, scratch that, he was terrified.

"Rose," he said softly, "you're a temporal anomaly. I don't know what that means, other that than Bad Wolf is connected to you, somehow."

In a jerky motion almost too fast to see, Rose had ripped her way free of his arms, and was standing, fists clenched and shaking. Her face was contorted with rage and fear. "Why? Why'd you keep this from me?"

She let out a rough laugh. "That Dalek was more honest than you."

The Doctor flinched, at a loss for words.

Rose fixed him with a stare that managed to be hard despite the tears welling up in her eyes. "'M gonna die, aren't I? This Bad Wolf, whatever it is, it's going to kill me. Damn it, answer me, Doctor!"

The Doctor finally managed to get his vocal cords to function. "I don't know, Rose."

Her eyes noted his terror, and softened somewhat. But the anger didn't leave them entirely. "Goodnight, Doctor."

She turned on her heel, leaving the dimly lit library, and the Doctor, still unconsciously reaching out for her.


	13. Chapter 13: Falling Slowly

Rose

Rose perched on the edge of the white marble counter in the Doctor's little bathroom. She idly tapped her bare feet on the cabinets as the Doctor shaved. It had become their daily ritual, Rose sitting and talking while the Doctor performed his morning routine. They spoke of many things, including their own pasts, and the places they'd been. Sometimes Rose could convince him to talk about the Time War.

The one thing they hadn't discussed was the kisses they'd shared while the Doctor had been split into his component aspects. Nor their feelings for each other. And really, that was fine. Or so she'd tried to convince herself. The other thing currently brewing at the back of her mind was their fight three nights ago. Rose ran an absent hand through her hair, noting that it really needed a trim and possibly a colour.

The Doctor set his razor down, and shot her a mildly concerned glance. "You're unusually quiet, Rose. What's bothering you?"

Rose pasted a innocent expression on her face. "Nothing."

She must've failed miserably, because the Doctor, misunderstanding, gave her a sympathetic look. "I swear, Rose, I will do whatever it takes to ensure that Bad Wolf doesn't harm you."

Not wanting to answer that, Rose fumbled around for a distraction, finally coming up with something else that had been itching in the back of her mind. "Doctor, what happened to those experiments? It sure isn't like you to leave a potential hazard running around."

The Doctor gazed at her, but not only did he look even more haggard and careworn than usual, but his eyes held a corona of blazing star-fire. Rose felt a sinking sensation somewhere in the general region of her stomach. The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture of distress. "The Oncoming Storm killed them with arton discharge."

Rose patted his other hand where it clenched and unclenched on the smooth marble. "'M sorry."

He looked away, the star-fire gone from his eyes like it had never existed. He simply sounded weary and a touch angry. "Whatever for? I killed them. Erased them from existence simply because they were dangerous."

Rose didn't know the words that would make him believe that there really was no better choice. So she hopped off the countertop and hugged him tightly, burying her face in his shoulder. His arms went around her, and they stayed that way for some time. Rose was the one to draw back first, disentangling herself with a slight sigh.

Bouncing backwards with forced cheer, Rose gazed up at him. "Where are we going today? I fancy liberating another planet."

The Doctor chuckled at her attempt at humour. He picked up his velvet trench coat, and shrugged it on. "We need supplies, so I was thinking of swinging by Akura II. It's one of a handful of remaining planets not occupied by either Daleks or Time Lords. With a population of fifteen billion, it's a relatively small colony world. There's four relatively small continents stretching in a diagonal chain across the face of the planet. On the northernmost continent, there's a lovely specialty-trading city called Kakós Lykos."

At the last two words, Rose's heart sank. "Is that-?"

The Doctor nodded, not seeming particularly concerned. "Bad Wolf. No reason to be concerned. I've been there half a dozen times with no trouble."

That didn't reassure Rose in the slightest. "That's a red flag, if I ever seen one." She muttered.

The Doctor looked like he wanted to say something, but didn't. Rose had no doubt that he'd caught every word. Instead, he extended a hand. Rose hesitated slightly, still unhappy, but the Doctor smiled slightly, and Rose took his hand.

The Doctor moved in a complex dance, each step punctuated by another button pushed or switch toggled. Rose watched him, awed by the sheer intensity of his focus. Finally he flipped the dematerialisation switch, and the dance ended. The time rotor began to bob with the grinding wheeze of ancient engines, and the Doctor came to stand by Rose.

After giving Rose a small smile that seemed to take a little bit of the weight off his shoulders, the Doctor pulled down the boxy scanner. He immediately set about tuning it. The screen immediately fuzzed from black to grey static. It wavered, resolving into blocky writing. It said: 15,100,000,000,060,982 lifeforms detected. It went on to list the different species the population from which it was composed.

Just as the TARDIS settled lightly, the Doctor finished scanning the list and looked up with a satisfied smile. "Not a single Dalek."

Some of the weight seemed to lift from his shoulders. Grinning at Rose, a real grin this time, the Doctor sprang for the doors. Rose went to follow, only to realise that she'd left her coat in the bathroom. Just as she started for the exit, the door slammed shut behind the Doctor, and the TARDIS took flight.

Rose knew instantly something had gone horribly wrong. The time rotor lurched sickeningly, its blue light twisted and wrong. Metal screeching like the death throes of some great beast, the TARDIS lurched violently, sending Rose careening into one of the bell-shaped struts. Headfirst.

The world went black.

The Doctor

He woke gradually, then in a rush. There was something important, someone or something he needed to protect.

And there was a girl. Her face swam in his mind's eye briefly, all cornsilk hair and sunny smiles.

He couldn't remember who she was. In fact, when he reached out for his memories, he couldn't find them.

Rose

Rose was also waking up. Her skull pounded like an inconsiderate giant was using it as a drum. A bitter, coppery taste filled her mouth as she sat up. She winced as she realised it was her own blood. Then Rose remembered, and terror filled her. Springing forward, she bolted for the doors, desperately trying to pull them open. They wouldn't budge.

Rose beat her fists against the door, feeling the skin split and not caring. "DOCTOR!"

Now she directed her desperate pleas to the impossible ship. "Take me back! Take me back!"

It felt like someone had wrapped a blanket around her and set her in front of a crackling fire. A strange presence, as alien as the Doctor's, and yet as familiar as a best friend, hovered all around her. The TARDIS, Rose realised. Rose slowly turned around, and walked toward the console, following the sensation. Feeling more than a little silly, Rose addressed the air. "Can you help me?" Her voice cracked.

The TARDIS hummed what Rose thought was an affirmative. An idea popped into her head. Rose tipped her head thoughtfully. "You're saying... That if I flip that last switch, that you'll take us back to where we were last?" The TARDIS hummed in an approving manner, and sent Rose a sense of something like a nod.

Rose leaned over the console, took a deep breath, and flipped the switch. The TARDIS instantly lurched into violent motion, the time rotor struggling up and down. Rose clung tenaciously to the console, refusing to let go.

Just when Rose was starting to wonder if she was leaving gouge marks in the cherrywood of the console, the TARDIS settled. Heart in her throat, Rose uncurled her fingers from the cool wood of the console, and crept toward the door. As she did, she happened to glance at the scanner.

The reading turned her blood to ice water. Zero lifeforms. Rose broke into a sprint, sneakers slapping the carpet. The distance between her and the door seemed to stretch unnaturally. The doors seemed to fly inward in slow motion as Rose darted outside. She froze, suddenly made unsure of herself by the blinding, choking grey fog. Rose realised she couldn't quite see her own hand when she held it in front of her.

She was damned if she would give up now! The Doctor could be dying.

Trying hard not to think about what the life sign reading meant, Rose took three steps forward... and tripped over a familiar someone.

The Doctor

He had stretched out on the ground, unsure of what to do. Then, with a muffled shriek, someone tripped over his feet, and fell flat across him, nearly knocking the wind out of him. He found himself face to face with his very pretty, and familiar assailant. She levered herself off of his chest, and looked him in the eyes. "Hi, Doctor."

He couldn't help but stare back, transfixed by her eyes. "Hello."

He noticed that his instinctual responses to her seemed to indicate that she was a close friend, perhaps more. But for the lives of him, he couldn't remember her. He could not hold back his questions any longer. "Who are you, and more importantly, who am I?"


	14. Chapter 14: Leaf in a Hurricane

_The Doctor_

 _He had stretched out on the ground, unsure of what to do. Then, with a muffled shriek, someone tripped over his feet, and fell flat across him, nearly knocking the wind out of him. He found himself face to face with his very pretty, and familiar assailant. She levered herself off of his chest, and looked him in the eyes. "Hi, Doctor."_

 _He couldn't help but stare back, transfixed by her eyes. "Hello."_

 _He noticed that his instinctual responses to her seemed to indicate that she was a close friend, perhaps more. But for the lives of him, he couldn't remember her. He could not hold back his questions any longer. "Who are you, and more importantly, who am I?"_

The Doctor

The girl looked at him with dawning horror in her eyes. Then she seemed to make a decision. "I'm Rose Tyler, and you're the Doctor."

Several memories came trickling back.

 _Lips, not Rose's, pressed against his, and an exultant voice shouted, "I am the Doctor!"_

His voice. And how had he known enough about how Rose's lips felt to tell the difference? Another memory, dark rather than ecstatic.

 _The hot burn of hypervodka sliding down his throat, the fierce relief of self-destruction._

Doctor no longer.

That's what he'd been thinking. Then another memory crashed into him with the force of a wrecking ball.

" _I am the Doctor." It was no longer a joyful shout of realisation, but a wondering murmur, repeated over and over as Rose lay in his arms. He'd never thought he'd be able to be that person again, but thanks to a certain Rose Tyler, he was._

The rush of memories was over in a matter of seconds, but for the Doctor, it seemed to last much longer. The Doctor looked at Rose with fervent gratitude. "Thank you. Because now I know who I am. I am the Doctor."

He went to brush his lips over hers, but something he couldn't quite remember told him that there was some reason not to do anything that might be misconstrued. So instead, he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.

Rose looked momentarily stunned, but gave him a broad grin. "How many times am I going to have to remind you of who you are? It's starting to get stale."

The Doctor grinned back. "Oh, a few times a century should be sufficient."

Rose looked like she was about to say something snarky in return when something whizzed about six feet over their heads. "Seek. Find. Exterminate!"

Rose recoiled, seemingly realising that they were still both lying on the ground like a couple of lunatics. She scrambled to her feet, and grabbed his hand, attempting to pull him to his feet. Realising what Rose wanted, the Doctor leapt to his feet. He began to tug her in the vague direction of safety, confused by Rose's attempts to tug him the other direction. They ran smack into a door before the Doctor managed to get it open and them inside. Rose broke free from his grasp, and staggered back, scowling at him.

She put her hands on her hips. "You just took us away from the TARDIS. She could have helped!"

The Doctor frowned, drawing a blank. He knew that the 'TARDIS' should be familiar, but couldn't remember. "Just who is this TARDIS? I dare say I should remember her."

Rose sighed, her scowl dropping. "The TARDIS is your ship." The knowledge felt _right_ for some reason. The Doctor nodded absently and started exploring the little kitchen they'd found themselves in.

Rose

Studying the Doctor closely, she wondered at the changes in him. He was currently bounding about the kitchen with pure, untainted enthusiasm she'd rarely seen from him. He seemed younger, not just mentally but physically. The calm, ready-to-react poise she'd associated with him was gone like a leaf in an hurricane.

The Doctor started eyeing the food synthesiser with dangerous interest, and Rose decided it was time to intervene, before the poor synthesiser suffered a terrible fate. Just as the Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver, Rose darted across the luridly coloured kitchen, and gently guided the Doctor away from the potentially-doomed appliance. "Doctor, don't you think it might be a good idea to poke around a bit? See if we spot anything fishy?"

He perked up, nodding. "Why, Rose, I think that's an excellent idea."

The Doctor sprang forward, taking Rose with him. He darted around a corner, then froze, head cocked intently. Rose followed, and froze too when she saw what he was looking at. In the homey little dining room, an entire family slumped in their chairs. The little boy was facedown in his oatmeal. Rose stared, sick to her stomach. "Are they dead?" She whispered.

The Doctor was already beside the small child, lifting him out of the oatmeal. He put two fingers on the boy's neck, checking for a pulse. After a second, he looked up, a relieved smile on his face. "They're alive. Simply unconscious. I wonder..."

With a casual ease that belied his lack of memories, the Doctor thumbed on his sonic screwdriver and began scanning the people sitting inert at their meal. After a second he pocketed the sonic screwdriver. "There is no sign of drug residue, or other toxins that could cause this. However, I do detect a strange energy signature."

Rose nodded sharply, a suspicion suddenly clouding her mind. "Can it possibly be traced?"

The Doctor pursed his lips, looking hesitant for the first time. "I can try. It's all muscle memory at this point. If I think about it, I forget."

A wave of realisation and joy struck Rose. "But not just yet. I know how we can get your memories back."

Grinning, she grabbed the Doctor's hands and towed him over to sit cross legged on the floor. Looking at the Doctor's innocent, joyful grin, her own faded.

Was she making the right decision? He was happy. But happy or no, neither of them would survive long if he couldn't remember.

The Doctor

The Doctor sat on the cool tiles, feeling Rose's warm human hands intertwined with his, and felt a thrill of trepidation. What kind of person was he? And what kind of things had he done? Perhaps noticing his nervousness, Rose smiled at him. Then, as she began to speak, her smile turned soft, and her eyes distant, like she was remembering something pleasant. Did he really have that effect on her? Somehow it seemed strange to think that he might be the cause of someone else's happiness.

"It all started with a coffee machine exploding..."

As she talked, explosions of memories, some sharp, others faded and dull, burst before his eyes. Companions and enemies, friends and lovers.

 _Whirling around the console room with Jo in a complicated dance. Outrunning the Skaresen. The gut-wrenching pain of losing Adric. Charley. Losing Lucie. Planets burning like the stars themselves. Entire civilisations crying out as they were lost. Worlds erased from history, species timelooped._

The list went on and on. He had soared so high in those early days, but now it seemed he was destined to crash and burn.

Sometime soon.

The Doctor shook the memories from his eyes, and gave Rose a broken, bitter smile. He got to his feet, slowly, feeling the weight of the past settling in every bone and sinew. The Doctor extended a hand to Rose. She took it, and he pulled her to her feet. The Doctor felt brittle, fragile, as if he might shatter if he let go of Rose's hand.

But he kept that smile on his face, no matter how false it felt, and turned his gaze on Rose. "The Daleks are up to something, yet again. Shall we stop them, Rose?"

She smiled at him, but her eyes were sad. "Lead on, Doctor." The Doctor fished out his sonic screwdriver, and they departed into the oppressive fog.

Rose

The steady beeping of the sonic screwdriver was the only sound to be heard, made all the more deafening by the threat of Daleks, and, you know, horrible death and all that. "Can't you make that thing quieter?" Rose hissed.

The Doctor turned his head to look at her, a slight quirk to his lips. "No, I can't. With any luck, the Daleks won't hear us."

Rose shook her head in mock sadness, but her lips curved up in a small smile. "Millions of years of technology, and you can erase a planet from history, but you can't make a silent screwdriver?"

As they walked, the Doctor's smile grew. "I object to that statement." He said in mock offence.

They walked in companionable silence for what seemed like an eternity. Then the pitch of the sonic screwdriver changed pitch, becoming high and reedy. The Doctor grinned and broke into a run. Rose followed, legs pumping hard to keep up. Rose was busy marvelling over their luck, and wondering how long it would last, when the Doctor ran smack into a solid immovable object with the usual effect: he bounced straight off of it, landing on his rear. Since he was still holding her hand, he dragged her down, too. Rose landed on top of him with a loud oof.

Rose picked herself up, and offered the Doctor a hand. "Had fun acquainting yourself with that door?" Rose asked dryly.

The Doctor grinned, taking her hand, and getting to his feet. "Don't disparage it. It's a nice door. Lovely paint job."

Standing back, Rose watched as he applied the sonic screwdriver to the door. After a second of loud humming, the door sprang open as if it wanted to be anywhere else. A maw of unlit, foreboding warehouse stretched out beyond the portal. "Why is it always warehouses?" Rose wondered aloud as they entered.

Despite his wary demeanour, the Doctor's lips curled up. "Isn't very stereotypical, is it?"

The sonic screwdriver continued its persistent beeping, the sound echoing oddly in the stillness. The tempo of the beeping changed yet again, and the Doctor rounded a corner. Rose did too, and stopped short, hugging herself. A corpse lay spreadeagled on the ground, a little silvery egg clutched in one fist. Rose could guess what had killed him. The Doctor was crouched beside the body, a funny expression on his face. Gently, he reached over, closing the dead man's eyes. The Doctor murmured something almost inaudible, and stood, picking up the little silvery object as he went.

He tossed it from hand to hand as he approached Rose. "We have what we need. Now the next step is to destroy it."

This was almost too easy; there had to be a catch. "How do you plan to do that?"

The Doctor grinned, and even if a shadow still lived in his eyes, it was genuine. "Simple. Like this."

He threw the egg-thing down, and ground it under the heel of his boot. One little piece rolled away from the rest, but neither of them paid it any heed. Until it started an unearthly shrieking. Rose clapped her hands over her ears. "Do something!"

The Doctor let out a growl, aiming his sonic screwdriver at the thing to no avail. "I'm trying!"

Rose threw a frantic glance toward the door, to see the fog thinning, and a horde of Daleks pouring towards them. Within seconds, they were surrounded. Rose and the Doctor both put their hands up in unison. Rose looked sideways at the Doctor. He seemed far too calm.

A black Dalek that was slightly larger than the rest rolled forward slightly, turning its eyestalk on the Doctor. "You are the Doctor. You and the temporal anomaly will assist us, or you will be exterminated."


	15. Chapter 15: Fine Line

_The Doctor grinned, and even if a shadow still lived in his eyes, it was genuine. "Simple. Like this."_

 _He threw the egg-thing down, and ground it under the heel of his boot. One little piece rolled away from the rest, but neither of them paid it any heed. Until it started an unearthly shrieking. Rose clapped her hands over her ears. "Do something!"_

 _The Doctor let out a growl, aiming his sonic screwdriver at the thing to no avail. "I'm trying!"_

 _Rose threw a frantic glance toward the door, to see the fog thinning, and a horde of Daleks pouring towards them. Within seconds, they were surrounded. Rose and the Doctor both put their hands up in unison. Rose looked sideways at the Doctor. He seemed far too calm._

 _A black Dalek that was slightly larger than the rest rolled forward slightly, turning its eyestalk on the Doctor. "You are the Doctor. You and the temporal anomaly will assist us, or you will be exterminated."_

Rose

The Doctor's voice didn't waver, but his eyes were spitting fire. "The Cult of Skaro. Tell me, Dalek Sec, what are the only named Daleks doing perpetrating cowardly sneak attacks on defenceless worlds? I thought Daleks were superior."

All of this was said in a bored, vaguely irritated voice tone. Rose's jaw dropped. He was baiting them! Was the Doctor _trying_ to get them killed?

If a Dalek could have an apoplexy, Dalek Sec's head dome would be in pieces on the floor. "Daleks are superior! Obey. Obey, obey!"

Then the black Dalek swung around, gliding off. The other Daleks followed. A blaster arm nudged her none too gently in the back, and Rose decided it was in her best interest to keep moving. She shot the Doctor a sidewise glance, and saw that he wore a slight smile.

A second later, Rose had the surprise of her life when the Doctor's voice spoke inside her mind. _Is this okay? I'm sorry, normally I'd never violate your privacy like this, but I need your help._

Rose took a minute to figure out how to think words without speaking them. _It's fine. How can I help?_

The feel of his voice was still apologetic, but now it took on a businesslike cast. _All right. This is how._

An avalanche of images, impressions and concepts sped through Rose's brain, settling in her memories. Rose mentally shook her head in amazement, wondering that if that was only a tiny portion of what the Doctor knew, how the inside of his mind _felt_.

Rose got the impression of an strong emotion, gone too quickly for her to read it, and then with the impression of a smile, the Doctor's TARDIS blue presence was gone from her mind. Rose almost felt bereft. The contact had brought a closeness that was surprisingly nice.

Now that Rose was slightly more aware, she noticed that they were almost out of the warehouse. Outside, the fog had cleared entirely. Groggy people were appearing in doorways, shaking their heads, and looking around blearily. Once they saw the Daleks, screams rang out, and people scrambled for weapons or the safety of their houses. One man in brightly coloured clothes came up with a gun, and fired at a Dalek just next to Rose. Perhaps he hoped to free the prisoners. Perhaps not.

But Rose would never know, because even as the bronze Dalek exploded, peppering her with shrapnel and green goop, three other Daleks broke away from the pack, surrounding him.

The doomed man stood tall, flipping the Daleks the bird in a timeless gesture.

Rose, not wanting to see what came next, stepped closer to the Doctor, and buried her face in his shoulder. But she couldn't block out the scream of agony from the dying man. Rose shuddered, suddenly sick of the horror. She felt the Doctor's arms wrap around her in a comforting embrace.

He kissed the top of her head. "I'm sorry."

Rose just hugged him tighter, putting a world of emotion into the gesture. They broke apart as the three Daleks whizzed back into formation, and they began to move again. But the Doctor's hand remained in hers. Now they were moving from an area composed mostly of small Mediterranean style houses toward the outskirts of Kakos Lykos, where a steel-and-glass monstrosity reared its bulk into sky, at least fifty stories tall. She had the nagging feeling that they might not exit those doors in one piece, plan or no.

A long time after they caught sight of the skyscraper, the Daleks bundled them into an opulent lobby that could have passed for any on earth. Several guards lay dead, and Rose watched the Doctor as he scrutinised the wounds.

After a long moment, he leaned over to whisper in Rose's ear. "Those were standard energy rifles, not anything Dalek made."

Rose nodded. "Which means?"

The Doctor smiled. "I'm getting there."

Then he did the absolute last thing Rose expected. The Doctor pulled her close, doing his level best to snog her breathless. All coherent thought whited out. Rose couldn't even remember why this was an incredibly stupid idea. One of her hands reached up to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck, while the other encircled his waist. His hands wandered, one of them sliding under the hem of her coat. Rose barely registered the cold weight of the sonic screwdriver dropping into her pocket. The Doctor pulled away, just as breathless as she was, looking self satisfied.

He patted his hair back down, and smirked. "I do believe I still have it."

Rose lightly punched him in the arm. "There are better places for a snog, moron."

Even though she knew they were both playing a part in a game as of yet unknown to her, it still hit her like a punch to the gut that he'd kissed her and was blatantly flirting with her. Meanwhile, the Daleks had grown bored of the little spectacle.

Dalek Sec rolled forward, blaster arm waving menacingly. "You will come to the transduction barrier control centre. Go to the transmat pad."

Rose noted a little alcove, big enough for three people. Or a Time Lord, a human, and a Dalek. Dalek Sec's blaster was now aimed directly at Rose. "OBEY!"

The Doctor glared at the Dalek, and Rose threw her hands up in mild exasperation. "Fine."

As she and the Doctor stepped in next to the irate Dalek, Rose supposed that the Daleks did have a reason to be tetchy. For the terrors of the Time War, it probably wasn't every day that your captives had the audacity to snog right in front of you.

Blue light, and the sensation of going insubstantial enveloped them, and they were gone.

The Doctor

They appeared in an alcove identical to the one downstairs, overlooking a enormous room. The walls were permaglass, and overlooked the entirety of Kakos Lykos in a splendid panorama. The entire fifty foot room was ringed by an immensely complex control console. The Doctor stepped free, habitually grabbing Rose's hand.

Then he turned around, walking backwards down the stairs leading from the niche. That was the first lesson a Time Lord or Lady learned; never turn your back on a Dalek, unless you wanted to be exterminated in it. Dalek Sec followed them easily down the stairs, hovering a foot off the stairs. At last they were on level ground, and the Doctor noted with vicious satisfaction that the Dalek had to tilt its eyestalk up to meet his gaze.

The Doctor bared his teeth in a smile. "Explain." He put sarcastic emphasis on the word. "What do you want out of us, or did you just want to kill two birds with one stone?"

Dalek Sec almost vibrated with glee. "You will show us how to remove Gallifrey's transduction field, and then you will be exterminated!"

The Doctor wasn't terribly surprised. He'd figured that Kakos Lykos was most likely practice for going after Gallifrey. "What about Rose?" He asked quietly.

The Doctor got the sense that if the Dalek could feel happiness, it would be grinning. "The temporal anomaly shall lead us into battle. And you, the homeless wanderer, will make her do it."

The Doctor set his teeth against the idea that he would ever do something like that. Could ever do something like that.

Almost conversationally, the Doctor said, "I really don't think so."

Then he gave Rose a gentle but urgent push, and yelled, "Now, Rose!"

Rose took off running for the control panel, sonic screwdriver already in hand. The Doctor kicked Dalek Sec hard enough to give himself a hairline fracture in his foot, getting the Dalek's attention. Damn, that hurt. The Dalek fired at the Doctor, forcing him to dive back. Then it focused its attention on Rose, who appeared to be mostly through the activation sequence.

It fired, right as the Doctor yelled Rose's name. She ducked. The beam shattered the glass above her head. The Doctor launched himself bodily at Dalek Sec, almost knocking the Dalek over. Unfortunately, the Doctor's one hundred eighty pounds of muscle wasn't enough to knock the Dalek down, and certainly not enough to do any damage. Suddenly, the Doctor wished for a baseball bat enhanced by the Hand of Omega. Or any weapon, really.

All of this as he was flung off the Dalek in an undignified heap. Then he wasn't thinking much at all, busy scrambling around avoiding the death ray. Rose let out a cry of triumph, and both Time Lord and Dalek froze in the middle of their deadly dance to look. A rippling blue light was spreading over the sky, with a swirling vortex forming not more than a quarter mile away. Already, Daleks could be seen, tumbling helplessly end over end, towards the blue vortice.

The Doctor put his hands together, turning to Dalek Sec with a pleasant smile. "You see, that's a failsafe most transduction fields tend to have. Essentially an eject button, with the ability to be keyed to the DNA of any species. You have likely five minutes until the pull gets strong enough to pull you straight through the permaglass. As the humans say, 'cough up'."

The surprisingly subdued Dalek did.

Rose

"I can't believe you let it slip that you are a Time Lord. That mob was ready to rip us to pieces!"

The Doctor sighed theatrically, stretched out on the couch next to her, with his head pillowed on her knee. "It's terrible. I thought they were going to award us a medal."

Rose shook her head, smiling in fond irritation. She leaned down to kiss his forehead. "Aren't you going to tell Romana what you've discovered?"

The Doctor smiled, eyes sparkling with familiar mischief. "It can wait until morning."

Rose's smile widened. "You are incorrigible."

The Doctor stood up. "Like you wouldn't believe. Now come on, dusty old books on dustier old Time Lords beckon."

Rose grinned happily, and chased after him.


	16. Chapter 16: Jackie on the Warpath

Two years later

The Doctor

He sat back on his heels, watching carefully as Rose used her sonic screwdriver to weld together two recalcitrant wires. In her jeans and blue leather jacket, using a sonic screwdriver and quietly mumbling technical jargon, she looked almost like a Time Lady. Rose turned to him, spitting out a lock of light brown hair. "How did I do?"

The Doctor stood up, going over to examine the clump of wires. The Doctor beamed at her, pride welling up in him. "You did a beautiful job. For instance, when I did this in my sixth body, it took me three weeks. We've managed it in less than three days."

Rose bounced up and down, a grin splitting her face. "So the chameleon circuit will work now?"

The Doctor stuck his hands in his pockets, grinning. "It will."

Rose launched herself at him in a hug. "Can we go test it out?"

Before the Doctor could reply, the TARDIS _screamed_ , lurching. They were both thrown violently to the floor. The Doctor's head struck the floor hard enough to have him seeing entire constellations of stars. The Doctor realised that most of his pain wasn't his own, but belonged to the TARDIS. She was fighting it, but they were being steadily dragged back to Gallifrey. Rose stood up, offering him a hand up. The Doctor accepted it, and she pulled him to his feet.

Rose looked around, concern weighing down her face and stance. "What's wrong with her?"

The Doctor rubbed his temples. "We're being summoned back to Gallifrey. And she's fighting it with every fibre of her being."

Rose stroked the wall, even as the Doctor's head lit up with another flare of incandescent pain. "Can't you tell her to stop fighting?"

The TARDIS hummed a deafening refusal. The Doctor winced. "She says no."

Rose sighed, rolling her eyes, and muttered something about stubborn TARDISes. The TARDIS hummed a good natured insult at Rose that the Doctor decided not to translate. The Doctor wordlessly took her hand, and they went to the console room to wait.

Romana

She and her chancellery guards watched in silence as the TARDIS wheezed its way into existence. Outwardly, Romana showed no emotion, but inwardly she was having a good laugh over the shape that the chameleon circuit had chosen for the TARDIS.

Slowly, majestically, the eggplant purple grandfather clock appeared.

The Doctor's latest companion appeared first, saw what shape the TARDIS had taken, and let out a florid Gallifreyan curse.

Then she noticed Romana and her guards, and promptly looked horribly embarrassed. It was all too much for her guards. Almost all of them were staring unabashedly, and one guard in the back was doubled over in silent laughter.

Romana hid a smile. One did not expect to meet the Lady Tempest, esteemed war hero, in such an undignified fashion. Then again, as far as anyone could tell, the Lady Tempest was human. Then again, maybe she wasn't, judging by the Dalek's unceasing efforts to use her as a weapon.

The Doctor exited the TARDIS, shot it a brief glance of exasperation, and lightly thumped it. Then he stepped up to the Lady Tempest, said something too quiet for Romana to catch, and wound their hands together. They exchanged a soft smile, and walked over.

The Doctor and the Lady Tempest both inclined their heads politely, although Romana could tell that the Doctor was irritated. Then the Lady Tempest straightened with a happy grin.

She stuck out her hand to shake. "Hi, Romana, I'm Rose. The Doctor has told me a lot about you."

Romana shook her hand, unable not to like the girl. Her manic energy reminded Romana a great deal of the Doctor's fourth body. "Complimentary things, I should hope." Romana said without much heat, raising an eyebrow.

Rose's grin gained a conspiratorial edge. "I certainly think so. Like your Academy scores."

The Doctor shook his head, wearing a martyred expression. Then his eyes sharpened. "Why did you bring us here? It can't be for social pleasantries."

Romana really regretted what came next. She didn't want her friend to hate her. But it was the only path that seemed to lead out of the Time War. If the Doctor and Rose both survived, they would become Gallifrey's perfect warriors. "I need you to command a fleet of battle TARDISes."

The Doctor smiled, but the expression didn't reach his eyes. "You're really scraping the bottom of the barrel, aren't you Romana?"

Romana could feel the timelines hanging by a thread, hinging on her next words. Choose carefully, she thought to herself. "We need you. The Daleks are popping up in all parts of our history, and we just lost one of our best commanders."

The Doctor's mouth twisted, and his fists clenched. "The answer is no, Romana. Find someone else to cause your collateral damage."

He linked his arm through Rose's, and turned them sharply the way they had come. Carefully calculating her words, she called after them. "Rose, what will you fight for if your only home is a radioactive slagheap?"

Rose whipped around, her gaze fierce, truly that of the being who had turned the tables on countless Daleks. "What do you mean?"

Romana could feel that last timelines slipping into place. "The earth is doomed, unless you save it."

Identical expressions of horror bloomed on the two renegade's faces. Then they bolted, disappearing into the grandfather clock.

Rose

Their usual leisurely dance around the console was a frantic sprint, driven by mutual desperation and fear. A constant relay of all the times they had been too late flashed through Rose's head. All the while, the time rotor picked up speed, and the TARDIS shuddered and groaned, bucking wildly. In what seemed an eternity, but was probably record time, the TARDIS shuddered to a halt.

Rose rocketed toward the doors, and flung them open. Only to find herself staring at the back wall of her mother's living room. The Doctor appeared next to her, and together they rounded the TARDIS. The TARDIS now resembled a lime green china cabinet, complete with dishes. Those dishes showcased obese chickens frolicking on alarmingly bright green backgrounds. Rose's lips quirked in bemusement.

Then, out of the blue, an incredibly shrill voice made them both jump and whip around. "An entire bloody year? Not that I'm not glad that you've decided to drop in, but is outer space really that interesting?"

Jackie sat on the couch, arms crossed, glaring dangerously at them. Rose and the Doctor simply stared at her, uncertain how exactly to respond.

Finally managing to speak, Rose asked, "A year?"

Jackie made a choking noise, like a vacuum cleaner trying to swallow a lego. "Yes, of course a year!"

Rose shook her head in dismay. "No, no, no! It was supposed to be five minutes!"

Jackie waved her hands about in incredulity. "You're saying that thing's a bleedin' time machine?"

Rose and the Doctor just looked at her. Jackie threw up her hands. "Fine. It's a time machine."

The Doctor looked at Rose, raising an eyebrow. Then he smiled at Jackie, his expression suddenly charming. "Sorry about that. You see, we're kind of under time constraints."

Jackie's eyes narrowed. "What kind of time constraints?" Her voice had gone soft and deadly.

The Doctor swallowed visibly, probably realising that he was in danger of another slap. "Earth getting turned into a massive slagheap by an unknown alien race."

Jackie let out a long breath. "Should I expect this kind of thing every time you come to visit?"

Rose and the Doctor exchanged a look, not certain of what to say that wouldn't get at least the Doctor slapped.

Jackie shot them a longsuffering look. "I'll take that as a yes."

The Doctor cleared his throat. "Have you seen anything out of the ordinary?"

Jackie raised a plucked eyebrow. "Anything that might indicate the planet about to be toast? No, but supposedly the prime minister is missing."

The Doctor got a curious look on his face. "Interesting." He murmured.

Then, louder. "This must mean that we have at least some time. The TARDIS must've landed us early."

Fixing them both with a piercing stare, Jackie looked them up and down. "If you have time, then go to bed. Rose, you have circles under your eyes, and Doctor, you look like something that crawled out of a grave."

Jackie

She had immediately vetoed the suggestion that they sleep in the TARDIS, and offered them Rose's old room instead. Puttering about the kitchen, Jackie made a pot of tea in preparation for an EastEnders marathon. But when she heard quiet voices instead of silence, Jackie's curiosity won out over the desire for a soap opera. After all, she was worried about Rose.

The look in her eyes, the coiled grace with which she moved… it reminded Jackie too much of a soldier coming back from deployment. And that scared her. Badly. Rose shouldn't look like that. Jackie turned off the electric kettle, and tiptoed into the hall that led to Rose's room.

The voices were still hushed, almost sleepy. Jackie peered around the corner, into Rose's room, their voices resolving. They were both on top of the blankets, Rose curled into the Doctor's arms, his chin resting on top of her head. Jackie felt like an intruder, but she pushed down the feeling, and listened.

Rose spoke this time, sounding almost asleep. "What are we going to do if it is the Daleks?"

The Doctor responded, his voice tired. "Probably a refined delta wave."

Jackie's blood ran cold. They were talking military tactics. Then the Doctor's eyes opened, and he leaned down to kiss Rose's forehead. Jackie hurriedly ducked back around the corner.

But not far enough to miss the Doctor's next words. "Go to sleep, Rose. We won't be too late this time."

Rose hummed softly, and there was a rustling of fabric. Jackie crept back into the kitchen, and turned back on the electric kettle. She would wait until whatever passed for morning for them, then she would confront them.

Even if she had to stay up all night, bingeing EastEnders. Oh well. Sacrifices had to be made when your daughter's sanity was on the line.

The Doctor

At some point during the evening, the Doctor fell asleep whilst reading a rather ridiculous book written by a human about Time Lords. He awoke in an even more undignified manner, with the book on his face, and Rose clinging to him like a drunken octopus practicing its wrestling skills.

Prying the book from his face, the Doctor smiled at Rose. She twitched slightly, muttering something about potatoes.

The Doctor shook his head somewhat, smile growing. Humans. But it was the other human he dreaded facing. The Doctor certainly hadn't imagined her heartbeat last night. She would have had to have been standing right outside the door.

Ah well. Time to face the music. Gently disentangling himself from Rose, he strode out of the room. Pale pink light peeked through the curtains. Jackie sat in front of the telly with a glazed look on her face. When Jackie saw him, she crossed her arms, and huffed like a ticked off tigress.

The Doctor stood there, patiently awaiting his fate. Jackie stood up, and stalked toward him, making the whole cat analogy that much more apt.

Jackie poked a finger in his chest, and the Doctor had the distinct impression that he was angling for a slap, and he hadn't even opened his mouth yet. "I want to know why my daughter is acting like a war veteran, and I want you to be truthful with me this time. God knows you weren't last time."

The Doctor's gut twisted with guilt. "The universe is at war."

Jackie raised one eyebrow skeptically. "Then why haven't I heard about it?"

The Doctor dug through his pockets, coming up with a chocolate mint, and a package of lemon drops. He held out one in each hand. The Doctor gestured with the lemon drops, then with the mint. "Imagine this is earth, and this is your second moon."

Jackie looked faintly smug. "We don't have a second moon."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow coolly. "And how do you know that?"

Jackie looked faintly puzzled, as if it should be obvious. "We… just don't."

The Doctor smiled grimly. "What if you did have a second moon, but a temporal weapon erased it utterly from history, so that it had never existed? How could you even remember it, then?"

Jackie shuddered, face ashen. "You mean that kind of thing is happening? Whole planets and species, gone forever, and we don't even remember them?" Her voice raised into a hysterical shriek on the last few words.

Then her face furrowed in a snarl. "And you've dragged my daughter into this battle of godlike powers?"

Jackie's hand whistled through the air, to impact his face for the second time in two years. It hurt even more than the Doctor remembered, as the pain mixed with his own guilt in a toxic mixture. The Doctor barely heard Rose's nearly silent footsteps.

Then she spoke up, her voice even with the faintest thread of emotion in it. "Mum, you can stop hitting him now. I chose this. I knew the consequences of my actions, and I wouldn't trade them now. Is that clear?"

Jackie just stared at her, open mouthed. Apparently she hadn't expected Rose to stand up to her.

But Rose wasn't done. Holding up a hand to forestall Jackie's next words, Rose continued. "An' I know what you're gonna say next. You're going to say I should come home, and stay home. But how could I, with the things I've seen, the things I've done? I've seen planets burnt to radioactive slag, species timelooped, but I've also saved entire planets from extermination with nothing but my wits and a sonic screwdriver. I've seen the best and the worst the universe has to offer. How could I stay at home, knowing I've given up my biggest chance to make a difference?"

Then Rose seemed to realise just how much she'd said, and she turned to go into the kitchen. "I'll go make breakfast. I know an excellent recipe for banana pancakes."

She then left, leaving Jackie staring angrily at the Doctor.

Rose

After an extremely awkward breakfast, Rose and the Doctor headed up to the roof, to plan their next move. They huddled together on the rooftop, the Doctor's arm around Rose's shoulders. The sun rose over London, casting pink rays of light everywhere. It was gorgeous, but their attention was elsewhere.

The Doctor stared thoughtfully toward the horizon. "I'm fairly certain that the rumoured death of the prime minister is the way to begin, but how to investigate? If only I still had my UNIT ID."

A slow, smug grin spread across Rose's face. She held out her closed fist, and slowly opened her hand. "You mean like this?"

An official looking photo ID lay in the palm of Rose's hand. The Doctor laughed in surprise, pulling Rose closer. "That was brilliant, Rose Tyler!"

Then his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Just where were you keeping that?"

Rose chuckled, enjoying pulling one over on the Doctor successfully. "You taught me to use my sonic screwdriver to make things bigger on the inside, remember? So I gave my wardrobe a makeover."

The Doctor shook his head, smiling. Then he took Rose by the hand, hopping off the wall. "Shall we? We'll need a car, of course. Doesn't your friend Mickey have one?"

As the Doctor drove at breakneck speed toward Downing Street, and Mickey flung rather bewildered questions at them from the backseat, Rose was beginning to think that this wasn't the best of ideas.

In the rear view mirror, Mickey looked faintly green. "How come you two eloped after just six weeks?"

Rose resolved to have a very unpleasant word with Jackie the next time she saw her mum. Just as she was about to answer Mickey, the Doctor careened around a corner, and Rose let out a curse in an alien trading language that she'd been learning. Mickey looked at her like she'd sprouted a second head, but she held up her hand.

Then Rose rounded on the Doctor, trying to keep a stern look on her face. "Did you even pass your test? It's bad enough that you cross your fingers whenever you fly the TARDIS."

The Doctor simply grinned at her, and parallel parked with much more grace than she would've given him credit for. 10 Downing Street was surprisingly quiet, with only two guards at the entrance. The Doctor and Rose walked straight up to the guards, with Mickey scrambling to keep up.

The Doctor held up his UNIT pass, carefully keeping his thumb over the photo. "Doctor John Smith, with UNIT, investigating the potential disappearance of the prime minister. May we come in and interview potential persons of interest?"

The guard eyed the three of them nervously, then spoke into his mic. "Mr. Greene, sir, there's some people who you might want to see."

There was a reply, too quiet for Rose to parse, but within minutes, two more guards appeared to escort them. The walk was a quiet one, with Rose taking the opportunity to stare in mild wonder. For most of her life, she'd thought that she'd never walk these halls. Then she hadn't given it much thought, but she couldn't put out the possibility of anything, no matter how outrageous.

Then they arrived at the doorway of an opulent conference room. Three people in expensive clothes waited for them, two men and a woman, all rather round, and wearing sickly sweet smiles that didn't extend to their eyes. Rose tensed instinctively, and beside her, the Doctor did likewise.

The man in front, who Rose assumed was Mr. Greene, stuck out a hand for the Doctor to shake. "Joseph Greene, Acting Prime Minister. And you are?"

The Doctor obligingly shook his hand, but he did not look pleased. "Doctor John Smith with UNIT. I'm here about the supposed disappearance of the prime minister."

Nothing changed in Greene's expression, but the hair on the back of Rose's neck stood straight up. "Oooh, a doctor! Shall we take this inside?"

Without waiting for an answer, Joseph Greene led them into the conference room and shut the door. Piggy eyes glittering, Greene looked the three of them over. "Do you want to find out what happened to the prime minister?"

The Doctor nodded politely. Rose had the growing feeling that this was most definitely a trap. Greene strode over to a large cabinet, throwing open the door. A crumpled form fell out, head lolling on a neck that was definitely broken. Rose didn't recognise him, but Mickey gasped. "It's the prime minister!"

The woman giggled, the sound coming out wrong somehow. "Indeed." Then she looked at Greene. "Can I do the honours?"

Greene, or rather not, as Rose was starting to suspect, smiled indulgently at the woman. "Of course you can, Blon."

Blon smiled with childish glee, and reached up, pulling a zipper in her forehead. Bit by bit, a gigantic green something emerged from Blon's skin. It shook itself, and flexed scimitar claws. Blinking sideways, it said in a hoarse, raspy voice, "We are the Slitheen."

Mickey stood frozen next to Rose, and Rose elbowed the Doctor. "Got a plan?" She hissed.

The Doctor grinned. "Glad you asked. Setting 36B."

Rose smiled, remembering what that setting was for. They both pulled out their sonic screwdrivers, setting them, and aiming them at the approaching Slitheen. As the hum of the sonic screwdrivers reverberated through the room, something began to happen.

With the wheezing groan of ancient engines, the TARDIS materialised around them. Mickey took one look around him, and promptly fainted.


	17. Chapter 17: Storm Warning

The Doctor

Letting out a long suffering sigh, the Doctor dragged Mickey into an armchair. Rose watched him with amusement. "Come on, didn't your other companions freak out?"

The Doctor straightened, and started his circling of the console. Rose joined him in the familiar choreography. "You didn't faint. You were too busy talking to the TARDIS."

Rose grinned at him, her tongue poking out between her teeth. "Guess I'm just that good."

By the time the time rotor ground to a halt, Mickey was awake. Seeing the Doctor watching him warily, Mickey seemed to decide that discretion was the better part of valour, and bolted for the doors. Throwing them open, Mickey barely avoided a collision with a wall. The wall of Jackie's flat, to be specific. Rose looked at him, a question in her amber gaze. "We're gonna have to explain things, aren't we?"

The Doctor sighed. "It does appear so. Shall we?"

He held out his hand, and Rose took it. But when they saw the exterior of the TARDIS, they both stopped and stared. "What the heck?" Rose exclaimed.

Just then, Jackie appeared… and started laughing hysterically. "What is Superman's phone booth doing in my living room?"

Rose frowned. "That's it. She's trolling us."

Just then, a middle aged Asian lady burst into the flat, talking at great speed. "-great big spaceship, it took out part of Big Ben, and crashed in the Thames! Turn on the telly, it's all over the news!"

Then she left as tumultuously as she had come. Before anyone else could move, the Doctor had snatched the TV remote off the side table, and flipped it on. Dismay took root in his stomach as he flipped from channel to channel.

"-massive rioting and civil disturbances force police forces from all over the country to be moved-"

Click. "- An extraterrestrial body is being pulled from the Thames. It will be taken to Albion Hospital."

The Doctor turned off the telly, and placed the remote down. "Rose, I know where we're going next. Let's go."

He turned swiftly around, headed for the TARDIS. The Doctor halted abruptly, when Rose's fingers wrapped lightly around his wrist.

"Doctor." She said, laughter and worry mingling in her eyes. "Don't you think it's a good idea to talk to Mickey first? I don't want him talking to the authorities."

Mickey

Curled up on a rickety folding chair, Mickey was _not_ having the time of his life. To be quite honest, the surrealism of it all was getting to him. First, after a year, his childhood best friend turned up out of the blue, with her husband, asking to borrow his car. Whereupon they drove to Downing Street, and nearly got ripped to pieces by aliens. Then Rose's husband also turned out to be an alien, and saved them by teleporting them into his spaceship. Mickey looked at his shaking hands, and laughed disbelievingly, still coming down off the adrenaline.

Just then, Rose came in, followed by that John Smith bloke. God only knew what his actual name was. Rose leaned against the cabinets opposite him, and folded her arms, a surprisingly gentle expression on her face. "Look, Mickey, I'm sorry to drag you into this. I think you deserve an explanation. Just what has my mum been telling you?"

Damn straight, Mickey thought. Out loud, he said, "She just said something about you eloping with a guy you met at Henrik's. Said you knew him for about six weeks."

Rose turned around to thunk her head repeatedly into John's shoulder. Then she raised her voice to carry into the living room. "Seriously, mum? Very flattering." The last sentence dripped with sarcasm.

Jackie didn't even look up from the soap opera she was watching. "Be realistic, sweetheart. What was I supposed to tell 'im? That you'd run off with an alien?"

Rose made a low growling noise that made John look at her with affection and amusement. "One of these days I'm gonna dump that everlasting blue Akuran dye in her shampoo."

John smiled at her, and bumped her shoulder affectionately. "You're not that cruel."

Mickey looked back and forth between the two of them. Yeah, definitely married. Then he cleared his throat. "Hello?"

They stopped giving each other bedroom eyes, and looked at Mickey. Mickey was a little unnerved by the weight of years in John's gaze. He seemed a lot older than the forty something he appeared. Mickey briefly wondered if Rose knew her spouse's true age. Then he discarded the thought. Rose stared off into space for a long moment, gathering her thoughts. Then, slowly, she started speaking. "He's a Time Lord of Gallifrey. His real name is the Doctor."

Mickey immediately interrupted. "Doctor what?"

The Doctor looked pleased, like he'd been expecting this response. "Just the Doctor, please."

None too discreetly, Mickey rolled his eyes. "And what the hell were you two doing getting in the middle of that? I mean, I didn't even know there were bloodthirsty aliens in Downing Street."

The Doctor and Rose exchanged a fraught glance. "There's a war on in the cosmos. And we were made aware of a threat to the earth." Rose said at last.

Mickey shot her a wary look. "What kind of threat?" He asked slowly.

"To turn the earth into a charred, radioactive rock." The Doctor said bluntly.

Mickey winced, and Rose shot him a sympathetic look.

The Doctor intertwined his fingers with Rose's, and turned to go. "If that's all…"

Mickey shot to his feet. "No."

The Doctor glanced back at him, looking puzzled and vaguely irritated. "What now?"

Striding past him, Mickey made for the telephone-booth-ship. "I'm coming with you." The Doctor sighed theatrically, and Rose elbowed him, but Mickey didn't care. He was going to make sure Martha was safe.

Rose

As Rose and the Doctor piloted the TARDIS, Mickey sat in an armchair, watching them. "Since when do you know how to pilot a spaceship, Rose?"

Rose shrugged, but otherwise didn't answer. The blue light of the time rotor glowed brighter, and it began to move at a leisurely pace. But it lied. Time was running out. And when the clock stopped ticking, another six billion people would be lost to the Time War. Rose knew she would do anything to stop that.

Rose was distracted from her gloomy thoughts by the Doctor ceasing his complex dance step, and hugging her, leaning his forehead against hers. Rose drew in a shaky breath, touched by the comforting gesture.

Neither of them said any words of false comfort, both having seen too much bloodshed to make promises they couldn't keep. At last the gentle rocking of the TARDIS faded to nothing, and they broke apart. They had arrived.

The Doctor

From where he stood, sonicking the keypad on the door, the Doctor could hear Rose and Mickey wending their way through the piles of junk stacked up in the little room. Rose paused by him, unobtrusively watching him. "What's the plan?" She said after a moment.

The Doctor grinned at her. "To improvise."

Rose grinned back. "The best plan."

Over Rose's shoulder, the Doctor could see Mickey shaking his head in exasperation. With a final hum, the lock clicked open. The Doctor pushed the door open, and the three of them emerged… into a room packed with startled soldiers bearing UNIT insignia.

To their credit, they reacted quickly to the intruders. Within seconds, a dozen guns were cocked, firmly pointed in their direction. Rose and the Doctor both raised their hands, grinning like loons. Mickey followed suit, looking less than amused. Just before the waiting became too intolerable, a scream split the tense silence.

The Doctor made a hand signal. "Defence pattern delta! Go, go, go!"

They tore off down the hall, at the crest of a wave of soldiers. The Doctor glanced sideways at Rose, and saw that she was smiling, her eyes sparkling. The Doctor had to agree. There was a certain exhilaration in the chase. The hall ended, and they ended up in a morgue.

A young woman huddled on the floor, blood and terror painted on her face. The Doctor and Rose crouched by her. The young woman pointed a shaky finger in the general direction of the body lockers. The Doctor repressed a shiver. He'd ended up in one of those once. The experience had not been a pleasant one. With an effort, the Doctor refocused on the young woman.

She was speaking now. "I thought it was dead. But it's not!"

The Doctor patted her arm reassuringly. "Call it shock, hibernation, a healing coma, or anything else you please. What did it look like?"

The Doctor highly doubted it was a Slitheen. Then again, why would two species be involved? At that moment, a loud clang broke the silence. The Doctor and Rose both stilled dangerously. Mickey just looked determined. Another metallic banging split the hush.

The Doctor pivoted on his heels to face the soldiers. "Go on. Secure the perimeter!"

The last was an authoritative bark. The soldiers practically fled. That dealt with, the Doctor signaled to Rose to cover him, and crawled rapidly around the side of the metal exam table. The last thing the Doctor expected was to come face to face with a bipedal pig. It squealed at him, and the Doctor smiled in unshakable delight. "Hello."

Then things started to go horribly wrong. The pig spooked at something, and bolted for freedom. Nearly bowling Rose over in its pellmell rush for liberty, the pig headed for the hall at an incredible rate. Feeling like using a few of those Gallifreyan swear words he'd been teaching Rose, the Doctor dashed after it. Ice cold, familiar dread gripped his hearts.

Instinctively, the Doctor had let the shields around his time senses down. Now, as he saw the timelines ending in blood over and over again, the Doctor wished he hadn't. As he ran past a uniformed soldier levelling his gun at the pig, the Doctor belatedly shouted, "Don't shoot!"

The soldier hastily lowered his rifle, and stepped back. The bizarre parade sprinted on. Horror wrapped its icy tentacles around the Doctor as a soldier stepped out, saw the charging pig, and immediately let off a shot. As the Doctor fell to his knees beside the dying animal, and Rose did the same, the Doctor didn't need to look at its timeline to tell that the shot was true.

Rose gently murmured to it, and the animal whuffed at her. Then its head fell back, and the life faded from its eyes. The Doctor glared up at the soldier. "It was scared. You killed it, and it was terrified!" The other man had the grace to look ashamed. But he said nothing. What could you say to that?

Mickey

They stood around the corpse of the supposed alien. To Mickey's eye, it didn't look much like an alien. Just a pig in a spacesuit. Out of nowhere, a thought occurred to Mickey. _What if I can't do anything? The Doctor and Rose seem to have things well in hand._ Then Mickey set his jaw determinedly. He would make a difference.

The lab tech was talking now, her voice filled with confusion and wonder. "You're saying it's not an alien, but just an ordinary pig." She made a face. "I thought that was just what aliens looked like." Mickey spotted the Doctor hiding a smile.

Then in a dizzying full turn, he was all business again. "It bears more resemblance to a mermaid. A Victorian showman used to drawn in the crowds by taking the skull of a monkey, and glueing it to the body of a fish. Rose, would you mind?"

Rose grinned at him, and pulled one of those blue tipped silver cylinders out of a pocket that shouldn't have fit it. She used it like a laser pointer, gesturing to different parts of the pig's brain. "See, the frontal lobe is greatly enlarged, with signs of grafting technology being used. And someone messed around with the pituitary gland. Not a clue why."

The lab technician whistled softly. "So it's not natural? But no technology on earth could do that…" Mickey could hear her puzzling it over as they walked away. "Aliens faking aliens. But why?"

Just about the time a soldier with greying hair stopped them, the technician realised that she'd been left behind. "Doctor, Rose, Mickey!"

Then there was a clatter of heels as she chased after them. The soldier looked over the three of them, and snapped to attention, saluting. Typical. The Doctor did not seem at all pleased by this. He groaned, holding up a hand in exasperation. "How many times do I have to tell you not to salute?"

The soldier deflated, acting as if his childhood hero had just yelled at him. "Sir, you and your companion are expected at 10 Downing Street. A car is coming to pick you up."

The Doctor was just about to say something snarky when the lab tech caught up with them. The young woman skidded to a haphazard halt in front of them, looking at the Doctor inquiringly. She placed her hand on his arm.

The Doctor seemed clueless to that, and the fact that Rose was giving her a look of polite deadliness. "Who are you?"

The Doctor smiled brilliantly, but it was not a flirtatious smile. Mickey shook his head in amazement. The man was definitely an alien. "I'm the Doctor, and this is Rose and Mickey."

The young lab tech didn't remove her hand from his arm, but changed tack. "What about the pig? Why would aliens-"

Mickey barely had time to notice Rose holding the mystery cylinder behind her back, before every light within twenty feet exploded in a shower of sparks. As did the tech's mobile. Yelping, she danced around, before getting a look of panic, and bolting back the way she'd come. "The computers!"

Mickey bestowed a knowing glance upon Rose, just as the Doctor shot her an archly amused one. "You didn't really ruin the computers with that EMP wave, did you?"

Rose smiled, her features tinged with embarrassment. "Nah. Let's go wait for the car?"

Rose

They sat on the rain soaked steps of Albion Hospital, as a few forlorn stars peeked through the haze of light pollution. Mickey was maintaining a respectful distance. Rose stared at their interlaced fingers, and wondered why everything in her life came with such a big price tag. She could finally make a difference, but it might well come at the price of her soul and sanity. She'd found someone who she loved, and who loved her unconditionally, but he was too paralysed by the fear of outliving her to act upon it. Rose flashed back to the conversation they'd had when she'd tried to discuss their relationship.

 _Wandering the halls of the TARDIS, she'd asked the question that had been bothering her since Akura II. The Doctor's response had been simple, and full of simmering darkness. "Because if I let myself care about you like that, then it would be impossible to watch you wither and die. That's what humans do. You fade, turning to dust, while I live on."_

Rose shook herself free of the memory. So they stayed in this maddening limbo, both craving contact, but unwilling to cross that invisible line. Rose's thoughts were interrupted by the noise of a car engine.

Almost in unison, they stood up. A sleek black limousine rolled up in front of them, purring like a well fed jaguar. The suit-wearing driver got out, and held open the door to the backseat. Awkwardly, the three of them piled in. Rose ended up squeezed between Mickey and the Doctor, but that was probably for the best. She didn't want them to rip each other to pieces. They rode in tense silence all the way to Downing Street.

The Doctor

They scooted out of the car, and the Doctor watched Rose and Mickey with interest. Mickey kept his head down, avoiding the camera flashes of the mob of reporters flocking together outside 10 Downing Street. In contrast, Rose bounded forward, a bright grin on her face, making sure to wave at the reporters. It was just as much of a mask as the one the Doctor wore. With some dismay, the Doctor wondered when she'd started to become so much like him. Masking her true emotions, and deflecting. What was next?

The Doctor caught up with Rose and Mickey, and Rose's hand slid into his, fitting perfectly, as usual. Rose tugged him toward Downing Street. The black-painted door opened, and a stern-faced guard ushered them in. Inside, a herd of people, mostly in military garb, milled about. Over the intercom, a simpering female voice announced that ID cards were to be worn at all times.

The Doctor started to mull this over. The voice was that of the Slitheen who had tried to kill them. Why make them wear the ID cards, unless it somehow benefitted the Slitheen? The Doctor resolved to ditch the cards as soon as possible. Across the room, a clean-cut man with cropped dark hair made his way directly for them. Predictably, he was carrying two badges. The Doctor wanted one of those badges near Rose like he wanted someone to spray paint the TARDIS bright pink, but he swallowed down his protectiveness with an effort.

The man approached him, wearing a neutral expression. "Sir, ma'am, your ID badges."

Wordlessly, the Doctor took his. Rose did the same, but glanced questioningly at the man. "What about Mickey?"

The man looked faintly apologetic. "I'm afraid he'll have to stay here. Not even I have clearance."

The Doctor exchanged a glance with Rose. She didn't like it any better than he did, but she was smart enough not to make a scene. The Doctor was pinning the badge to the lapel of his trench coat when a woman approached. She stank of adrenaline and fear hormones. That seemed the most remarkable thing about her, until you looked in her eyes. In that fear widened gaze, the Doctor could see the glimmer of an agile intelligence. She said something in a shaking voice to the badge-bearer, who brushed her off in irritation.

The Doctor guessed that he knew her, and didn't like her. The Doctor was about to approach her when the other man decided to usher them away. The last thing that the Doctor saw before he turned the corner was the woman leading Mickey deeper into the labyrinth of Downing Street. He hoped for all their sakes that they could stay alive long enough to reunite.

Mickey

The unknown woman guided him along until they reached a deserted corner. The older woman held up a little ID card, acting as if it held state secrets. "Harriet Jones, MP for Flydell North."

Mickey wasn't sure what to say to that. "I'm Mickey Smith."

Eyes abruptly going glassy with remembered terror, Harriet choked back a sob. "D-do you know about aliens?"

I know they're here in Downing Street, Mickey thought darkly. Out loud, he only said, "Yeah, I do. My best friend's husband is an expert."

Mickey figured that would go over better than, yeah, my friend's married to an alien. But don't worry, he's the nice kind.

Harriet stared at him, gaze wide and pleading. "Can you help me?"

Mickey had the feeling he'd regret this. But then he thought of Martha, wondering what she'd do in this situation. "Yes, I can."

Rose

She accepted her debriefing packet quietly, and went to sit next to the Doctor. Predictably, he'd already read his in its entirety. The Doctor was almost completely still, only the tapping of his fingers on his knee and the movement of his eyes betraying that he wasn't a statue. It was a stark reminder that they were in enemy territory. Usually the Doctor was equal parts boundless exuberance and subtle snark. Not so much now. Joseph Greene, the undercover Slitheen, strode into the room, followed by a rounded man with general's insignia. The quiet murmurs of the gathered experts quieted, replaced by an aura of waiting. Greene took the centre of attention, standing with his arms behind his back.

Greene cleared his throat wetly, farting. "As you can tell from the summaries in front of you, the craft had one porcine pilot."

The Doctor stood up, striking a subtly dramatic pose. Every eye in the room was drawn involuntarily to him. Even the disguised Slitheen eyed him, albeit with predatory focus. The Doctor began to speak with enthusiasm, clearly enjoying himself despite everything. "The really interesting part happened about three days ago. The satellites detected a tiny little signal, a minute blip of radiation a hundred fathoms down. Just as you were about to investigate, this place turns into the extraterrestrial Ides of March. So let me ask you this. If aliens fake an alien crash and an alien ship, putting the entire world on red alert, what do they get?"

He smiled grimly. "Us. They get us. The only people capable of repelling an attack."

Rose had the sinking feeling that this was all about to go to hell in a handbasket. She walked up to stand beside the Doctor, even as Greene began to clap mockingly. "Bravo, Doctor! Very well done. Of course, we won't allow you to survive this."

Greene fumbled in his pocket, pulling out a red detonator. All the blood drained from the Doctor's face, and Rose knew it was bad.

Joseph Greene smirked. "Thank you for wearing your ID cards. They'll help to identify the bodies."

Harriet

Harriet covered her mouth as she stared at the thing that had once been a human being, and found herself unable to get out more than the barest whisper. "They got ahold of him, and turned the skin into a suit."

Harriet looked at Mickey pleadingly, trying to suppress her sobs. "You have to believe me!" Distantly, Harriet could hear her voice scaling up, becoming hysterical.

Mickey nodded, patting her arm reassuringly. "I believe you."

But his eyes were distracted. A second later he strode away, throwing open drawers and cabinets as he went. "They must have some pretty impressive tech if they could do that. If we can find it, we can use it against them."

Each few words were punctuated by another drawer getting thrown open. Mickey carelessly tossed open the door of a large, squat oaken cabinet, and Harriet gasped, hands splaying over her mouth. A thin man in a dark, expensive suit sprawled half-in, half-out of the cabinet. His neck was clearly broken.

Just then, an indignant, officious voice broke through Harriet's frozen horror. "What is the meaning of this? This is a restricted area, only council members are allowed!"

The secretary strode briskly into the room, his face set in a rigid snarl. Then he rounded the table, and froze. "Oh my god. That's the prime minister!"

Just then, they all looked up as another person entered the fray. Margaret closed the door behind her, smiling as if someone had given her a chocolate cake. Caressing her ample stomach creepily, Margaret wagged a finger at the three frozen humans. "Uh oh." She cooed. "Has someone been naughty?"

The secretary seemed to break out of his shock. "But we were told that the prime minister was driven away from Downing Street!"

Margaret smiled at the man like he was an errant child. "And who told you that? Me-e-e."

Harriet moved closer to Mickey. "What do we do now?"

Mickey leaned in closer, keeping his eyes on Margaret. "On three, we rush her. She can't hurt us much if she can't get out of human skin."

Harriet nodded, and Mickey whispered something to the secretary. The other man shook his head vehemently, and Mickey said something else. The secretary paled, then nodded hurriedly. As one, they leaned forward, preparing to run.

"THREE!" Mickey bellowed. They ran, bowling over Margaret in a bull rush. They kept running, and didn't stop until they were downstairs. Especially when an inhuman roar of rage and frustration rattled the windows.

The Doctor

He paled as he realised just what the badges were. It was an unusual way to use that technology, but still. The Doctor frantically ripped the ID tag from Rose's lapel, and threw it as far away as possible. Then he lunged for the nearest expert, a familiar-looking older woman, and repeated the process.

He managed the procedure twice more before, with an unpleasant snarl, Greene clicked the detonator button. The Doctor fell to his knees as agony claimed him, sharp as a diamond scimitar.

Rose

Rose ran to the Doctor, dropping down beside him. He was surrounded by a web of crackling blue electricity. But it couldn't be electricity. The Doctor had once said that he could be struck by lightning and barely feel it. He was alive, but Rose didn't know how much longer that would last. Wait a second. The ID card! If she could get it off, the electricity would probably stop.

On the other hand, she might die. But when had that ever stopped her? Without hesitation, Rose plunged her hand into the electricity. And nearly bit off her tongue. Pain crackled and multiplied down nerve endings Rose didn't even know she had. Her fingers skated over the ID card before everything went black.

The Doctor

Frozen, the Doctor could only watch as a wavering, stuttering blue light filled the room, announcing one of the Slitheen shedding his human skin. Rose dropped to her knees beside him, and seemed to be grappling with a decision. Then she made a grab for the ID badge. The panic and protectiveness he felt gave him the impetus to move. Right as Rose crumpled, the Doctor staggered to his feet, a hard smile on his face.

Bit by bit, the Doctor pulled the lightning off of him, and balled it up in his fist. Suddenly lithe again, the Doctor lunged forward, slapping the ball of lightning onto the Slitheen. It reared back, keening. Its human counterpart screamed.

Certain that he'd bought himself some time, he turned to the woman whose face he couldn't place. "Go get security. And don't salute!" He hastily added the last part as the woman sketched a salute, and ran from the room with a knowing grin.

The Doctor could feel the eyes of the others on him as he crouched down by Rose, and checked her pulse. It was steady and strong. The Doctor breathed a sigh of relief. Rose stirred, blinking blearily up at the Doctor. Then she smiled. "Wotcha, Doctor."


End file.
